The Skyling
by Lokibruor44
Summary: Kelda, the princess of the Sky Folk, is a battle-mage who was raised in Erebor and was betrothed to the dwarf prince Thorin. One hundred and seventy years after losing almost everything to Smaug, Kelda joins the Company of Thorin Oakenshield in order to take back Erebor and return to her home. But is home really the Lonely Mountain or is her real home actually a person? (Thorin/OC)
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to The Hobbit or the Lord of the Rings. Kelda, Sitheiyra and the Sky Folk are all that can be attributed to me.**

_This is to be my first fanfiction of The Hobbit. Tell me what you think! The Khuzdul dwarf language is as accurate as I can make it, but if you know I've got something wrong please let me know!_

Bree was a shithole.

Of course, after spending more than half of her life traveling between Lorien, Edoras and Minas Tirith, perhaps she was a bit biased towards cities of great splendor. The walled town was dark and dank, even without the addition of the persistent rain that had settled overhead. It wasn't helping her mood in the slightest. It was soaking through her sky blue cloak, the cold moisture clinging to her wings uncomfortably and causing the little woman to have to shake the dampness off of them constantly. Wet wings were annoying at most, as water mostly rolled off the feathers without issue, but persistent dampness could possibly interfere with the important oils needed for flight…though she supposed she was getting ahead of herself. They were still only yet strong enough to allow her to glide a short distance and no more; though some said even that was a miracle in her case.

The fact that people were watching her as she walked past them wasn't helpful, either, and suddenly she wished that she'd brought a bigger cloak, one that would more easily hide the forms of her wings. Without those, the locals would probably have just thought her a dwarf. She wouldn't have minded that; most people wouldn't give a dwarf a second look but a skyling? Outside those folk who dwelled in the East many would have never even heard of her people before, let alone seen one, and the inhabitants of Bree didn't seem to be shy with their blatant staring. She found herself frowning, pulling her cloak more tightly around her and speeding up her stride. She was feeling very vulnerable as she traveled along the cobblestone street. The sooner she arrived at this meeting, the sooner she could return to the safety of the forests and hills outside the high stone walls.

Had she not promised to meet her companion at the inn there, the skyling woman probably would have just avoided the town altogether; she preferred the open wilderness, where she could see trouble coming more readily. She'd grown up traversing the wilds with the rest of the Sky Folk, hunting the lush woods, dashing across the rolling plains and soaring the wide open skies. The way these others lived, boxed in behind stone and wood, was frankly unsettling to her. Not being able to bring her Muzmulomil partner into the town wasn't a pleasant idea to her, either, but she understood the need. Most people east of the Misty Mountains had probably never seen a gryphon before and would be terrified, but still her presence would have been of great comfort. Alas, though, that wasn't an option.

The skyling's brisk walk carried her more quickly through the town, and it wasn't long before she found herself standing before the door of the Prancing Pony inn. She pushed the door open and as she stepped inside she allowed herself a moment to enjoy the relief of being warm and out of the rain. None of the tavern patrons paid her any mind as she pushed through the crowd, her small size making movement a bit difficult; it was hard to force a path when she only stood a little under chest-height with the average human, who made up most of the patrons, and they were hardy attempting to be accommodating, either. She could see a few hobbits as well, but for the most part Bree was a human town. She preferred dwarves to humans, personally. Humans seemed as if they were always up to something. Sneaking around, offering their hand in friendship, just so they could get close enough to stab at the back. At least if a dwarf wanted to kill someone, they were honest about it. Blunt, perhaps, and sometimes brutal, but honest. Though, truly, she found she preferred dwarves to most people.

It took a moment before the skyling found a spot clear enough for her to search the tavern for her companion. She'd have thought that he'd be easy to spot, but it was true that a wizard could go unnoticed, if he really wished to. He had no reason to hide there, though, and as she scanned the crowd for a second time she caught sight of the tall, willowy man sitting at a table dressed all in gray. He was silver of hair, looked old and wizened, but the skyling woman knew well that his plain features were deceptive. A spell-caster of any kind was a force to be reckoned with. She knew that far better than most.

The wizard was hardly surprised when she took the seat opposite of him; he was preoccupied with the plate of bread and stew in front of him. He only turned his warm gaze to her after she ordered the same from the barmaid and pushed the hood of her cloak back off of her head.

An ignorant person could have mistaken her for a dwarf before then, being that she was of the same general size and stature, but once her hood was pushed back it was quite clear that she was definitely not a dwarf. Despite the Sky Folk being distantly related to the mountain dwelling children of the stone,their size was where the similarities ended. Although she was quite curvy, she was far slighter than a dwarf woman and lacked any kind of facial hair.

The skyling was pleasant to look at by the standards of most. Her freckled skin was a rich bronze, the darker coloring a vast contrast to the pale eyes shared by all of her people;her own were a lovely shade of gray, so light they were nearly silver, and resembled that of an eagle's. As like all the Sky Folk, she had a similar range of vision to such a bird of prey. Her face was round with a stubborn chin and naturally dark red lips that were upturned at the corners, giving the impression that she was always smiling, though that was not far from the truth. A spattering of dark freckles across the bridge of the nose and following the forms of her cheekbones made her look innocent, almost child-like. People often underestimated her. They always regretted it.

To the unknowing it looked as if she wore a large headdress of copper colored feathers on her head, though that was indeed the Skyling equivalent of hair. They were more brilliantly colored than any sunset, with undertones of reds, greens and pinks and a metallic sheen that made them glimmer in the candlelight. But it was her wings, of course, that were the real giveaway of her exotic nature.

Her wings were like a bird's, but far larger and looked more than capable of carrying her weight. Though they were mostly hidden beneath the blue fabric of her cloak the feathers, which were of similar color to those on her head and had the same metallic sheen, stuck out from beneath and were so long that they dragged across the floor when she walked.

"Hello, Gandalf," the skyling said, a cheerful tone to her melodic voice. "How goes the dwarf-wrangling?"

"It's a rather simple task, when one has someone else to do the actual wrangling," the wizard responded, mirroring the skyling woman's pleasant and playful demeanor. He leaned toward her over the table, raising his eyebrows slightly. "Tell me, Kelda, that you have not forgotten the legendary stubbornness of dwarves?"

"How could I? It's outdone only by the stubbornness of gryphons!" Kelda answered with a light laugh, thanking the halfling barmaid when she delivered the ordered stew. "Speaking of which, I should not linger overlong. Sitheiyra did not like the idea of leaving me to fend for myself here and I've no doubt that she'll storm the walls if she believes I've been gone for too long a time. What is the word on the expedition? Is it still set to proceed?"

"I've marked the location for the gathering; we will be recruiting the fourteenth member of the company there tonight," Gandalf said in confirmation, watching as Kelda ate a few spoonfuls of stew. "The expedition should be leaving in the morning, once we have everyone gathered together."

"And what of me? You're certain Oakenshield will allow me to join? I have no wish to antagonize him and follow along without his consent. As much as I see Erebor as my home it is, first and foremost, his."

"He can hardly afford to turn down the willing assistance of a resourceful battle-mage."

"That's not an answer."

"Have you ever known a dwarf to break a contract, Kelda?"

"No," Kelda answered with a slight sigh. "No, but the contract between my mother and the King Under the Mountain is not the reason I'm here."

Gandalf raised his eyebrows at her slightly, a somewhat serious and questioning look crossing his features. Kelda frowned upon seeing it, making a disgruntled huff as she did. The skyling found she was offended by his insinuated question, and was hardly going to hide it.

"Don't look at me like that, wizard. What do you think I am, some human lord? We Skylings _never_ break a promise. Our word is our bond, and I certainly have no intention of backing out of the contract if the Erebor dwarves wish it to be honored. I am more than willing to sacrifice freedom of choice for the sake of my people. I simply wish to get that _makalful _wyrm out of my childhood home."

"Thorin was quite interested to hear of your wish to join the company. He'll accept your help. He'd be a fool not to," Gandalf answered confidently, a brief flash of amusement at Kelda's spirited response crossing his face. The wizard had come to expect such behavior from Skylings; they were, in general, a very expressive, exuberant, passionate and yet respectful and traditional people who were more often than not so full of energy they seemed fit to burst. Kelda, although having been taught to keep a more calm and professional demeanor and having learned from her time with the Erebor dwarves how to more effectively keep to herself, was no exception and Gandalf briefly worried that the Company might not be able to keep up.

Kelda blinked at Gandalf's response, fidgeting slightly in her chair. She sometimes wondered if he could peer through the fogs of time, as the Seers could, and glimpse the future. He always seemed so sure of what he said, speaking as if it was carved in stone. Kelda liked to think that she sounded that assured, but she knew she probably didn't. She had never been able to make herself have that much confidence in herself and her words.

"If you say so, Bahirkhi," she answered, finishing up the last bites of stew before leaving the right amount of coins for her meal and Gandalf's. "You're going to the Shire tonight? You don't think there's any chance they'd welcome a Muzmulomil among them, do you?"

"The folk of the Shire are a very sheltered lot," the wizard answered, emphasizing 'sheltered' with a tone of what could have been exasperation. "They will find even a gathering of dwarves a strange and disruptive oddity."

"I expected as much. Some people just can't handle how fantastic my darling girl is. Well, that's alright. They'll just be in for quite a shock, is all; I'm certain they'll get over it." Kelda stood, shuffling her wings against her spine at the thought of having to go back out into the rain. It was still before noon; hopefully the rain would stop before long. She hated rain. As Gandalf stood as well, she looked up at him and smiled brightly, seeming completely oblivious to the way he towered over her. "Try not to cause any trouble without me! I'd hate to miss out."

Gandalf didn't have time to respond before the skyling was gone, pulling her hood back up over her head and vanishing into the crowd. The Grey Wizard couldn't help the smile that pulled at his lips. Oh yes, they would have a hard time keeping up with her, indeed.

Khuzdul Translations:

Muzmulomil- Beast of the Night

Makalful- Cursed

Bahirkhi- Wise One


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Hobbit or any of its lovely people or places. Kelda, Sitheiyra and the Sky Folk are all that are mine.**

_Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think of part 2! :-)_

* * *

A high pitched keening sound pierced the air, echoing off the trees and rolling hills that made up the Shire. The noise was similar to the screeching of an eagle, but with much more power; the sound of a large creature. It was punctuated by the clatter of falling metal, and a dramatic sigh followed immediately after.

"Sith, stop that whining. You're going to give all the poor hobbits heart attacks! We have to make certain it fits, now sit still!"

_Can we not do this later? I will miss the best rays of the sunset._

"There's not going to be a later. You know what Gandalf said; we'll be leaving first thing in the morning and we're already late as it is."

_They're dwarves. It's not as if they truly care about punctuality._

Kelda glowered at the large black beast once more, ignoring the gryphon's telepathic comment before picking the silver helm up from the ground and once again attempting to place it over Sitheiyra's head. The Muzmulomil whined lowly, but did stay still this time as Kelda adjusted the straps. As a member of the largest species of gryphon known to exist, Sitheiyra stood about seven feet tall at the shoulder; it made her far, far larger than her skyling companion and Kelda had to get her to crouch down before she could continue to adjust the battle-armor along her back.

"Open them up," Kelda said as she took a step back from the Muzmulomil. "I want to make sure it doesn't hinder your movement in any way."

The gryphon tossed her head, annoyed that she had to do anything beyond enjoy the last warm rays of daylight. Still, she did as she was asked and opened her impressive wings, spanning well over forty feet. Her black feathers caught the evening light as she moved; revealing an iridescent sheen with underlying tones of dark blues, greens and purples.

Muzmulomil gryphons were incredibly rare and seemed like an odd patchwork of different creatures mashed into one, combining to create a beautiful, powerful beast. Her body structure was like that of an ebony black feline, while her head was like that of an eagle, with a lethal, curved beak, fox-like ears and a crown of feathers encircling her head that gave her a regal appearance. Sitheiyra's tail was long, adorned with a fan of tail feathers at the tip, as well as at her hind quarters, that gave her greater maneuverability in flight. Large emerald-green eyes watched closely as Kelda finished the adjustments to the armor.

"It's perfect!" Kelda announced excitedly, clasping her hands together and smiling brilliantly. The armor had been a parting gift from her Uncle Draxis; he was the greatest smith among the Sky-Folk and had done his best to raise Kelda and her younger sister Anayla after the loss of their parents. He had refused to let them leave without being properly prepared, gifting Kelda with battle-armor for Sitheiyra and a new war staff for her, which was leaning up against a nearby tree. The staff was made of sturdy IronBark wood, the top adorned with a heavy sphere of hematite while the bottom end sported a long serrated blade, shaped like a spear-head. Kelda tapped the armor on Sitheiyra's head with a fingernail. "Light-weight and easy to get on and off; how does it feel? Is it comfortable? Do you think you'll be okay wearing it along the road?"

Sitheiyra contemplated the question for a moment, tilting her head in a very owlish fashion. She then gave an experimental flap of her wings and walked around in a quick circle before looking at Kelda, letting out a short whistle and thrusting her head against the skyling affectionately.

_It is adequate._ Kelda laughed lightly at the gryphon's answer. It was the best she was going to get from the proud creature, but it was enough.

"I'm glad you like it! You look so gorgeous in it, too," the skyling crooned, rubbing her hands along the gryphon's neck lovingly. Sitheiyra made a low sound similar to a cat's purr, so deep that it caused the pebbles and gravel on the ground around them to dance.

"Now then," Kelda sighed, standing back from the gryphon and turning to look out at the Shire before them. "We just need to find the place. Of course, I did make the mistake of leaving without getting any specific directions from Gandalf so…"

_Worry not, little one. I can smell the dwarves from here; their path is fairly clear. Come then, if we are in such a hurry we should not leave them waiting any longer._

Sitheiyra headed down the path then and Kelda followed close behind after grabbing her staff, incredibly thankful for the darkness that shielded their passing. She had very little doubt that most hobbits would not take kindly to looking out their window and seeing a large beast passing by.

Confident that Sitheiyra would be able to lead them to their destination without any issues, Kelda took the time to examine the Shire as they went through it. It was a land of green rolling hills and rich soil, where the sun was warm and the moon shined brightly. She imagined that cooler mornings would bring mists that would swirl about prettily, like in a painting. Round wooden doors dotted the hills, each an indicator of a halfling's home lying beneath the ground. It was a beautiful place, in a quaint sort of way.

Kelda took a deep breath of the clean air. The earlier rain made everything smell fresh and new. She loved how her connection with Sitheiyra gave her heightened senses; she could smell the thick scent of damp earth, the sweetness of fruit in the market, the sharpness of wood-smoke rising from chimneys. It was a homey place, a quiet place, a place where every day was about the same and nothing unexpected ever happened.

It was boring. It absolutely reeked of boredom and the skyling found herself hoping they wouldn't have to linger there too long, that what Gandalf had said was true and they'd be leaving first thing in the morning. She had little time or patience for boring.

_You should be careful what you wish for_, Sitheiyra interjected, having been keeping track of Kelda's inner monologue, as she often did. _Soon you may be begging the gods above for a boring day._

"You'll not catch me dead begging for boredom," Kelda replied, making a disgusted face at the thought of it. "Give me long hazardous hunts in the Misties. Stick me in night raids on bandit camps. Toss me into a solo troll encounter, but for the love of the gods, don't leave me in a meeting of pompous politicians or stick me with guard duty in the middle of Gondor. I have better things to do than listen to slack-jawed idiots or guard against human townies who wouldn't know the blade of a sword from the pommel if it slapped them in the face."

_Hmm, I suppose it's a good thing we're to be traveling with a group who may very well share your sentiments._

"Well, everyone _does_ say I act too much like a dwarf for my own good. I'm not sure I agree, though. Honestly I think everyone else would do well to act a bit more dwarvish. Maybe then they wouldn't be so stuck up…hey, is that a rune on that door?"

Kelda rushed to the door in question, belonging to the hobbit-hole at the top of the hill, and bent down to examine the glowing mark stuck there to the wood. It was indeed a rune; the wizard's work no doubt.

"This must be the place," the skyling said as she straightened. "It's got a glowing sigil on the door; wizard writing."

_It is_, Sitheiyra confirmed, lowering her head to take a quick whiff of the doormat in front of them. _There are at least two different individual dwarf scents that converge here, and I can hear them inside._

"Great! Let's not waste any time then."

Kelda placed two knocks on the door in quick succession and then waited patiently for a response, she and her gryphon looking entirely out of place there on the doorstep. They were only waiting a moment before the door swung open and an entirely exasperated hobbit looked out at them.

"Good evening, Master Hobbit!" Kelda said brightly before bowing, her wings sweeping open as she did to give the basic action an exotic flare. "Kelda and Sitheiyra, at your service."

"Oh, eh, Bilbo Baggins at yours….is-is that, is that a gryphon?" He asked, shrinking back a bit as Sitheiyra moved forward to sniff at him and look inside the open door curiously.

_As if I could possibly be something else,_ she thought.

"Yes!" Kelda said to the hobbit with a smile before stepping past him and into the house. "Yes she is, and I have to say I think she's a bit too big to fit through the door. Might you have a window or two I can open so she could at least get her head in? I don't want her to be excluded."

"Excluded? Excluded from _what_?" Bilbo asked in vexation, but Kelda ignored him. The skyling removed her cloak to hang it on a coat-rack nearby the doorway, revealing her traditional Sky-Folk mage armor. It easily set her apart from others as someone who was used to traveling battle ready; silvery armor glinted in the firelight, enchanted to be so light-weight it was like wearing cloth. Unable to wear a typical tunic due to her wings, a long piece of bright blue cloth pulled over her head and held together with various strategically placed leather belts sufficed to cover her. Hardened leather gauntlets, thigh high leather boots, and pauldrons made to look like feathers of blue and gold added extra protection. She was covered almost entirely from the neck down, save for where the armor had to cut low down underneath her wings, leaving much of her back exposed. Kelda could feel the hobbit staring at the scarring from burns on her back and the way her wings were tightly wrapped in cloth at their bases to hide the loss of feathers, but she brushed it off as she went farther into the house. She was more than used to people staring.

"Nice little place you've got here," she said as she looked around. The hobbit-hole was a cozy dwelling, clean and neat and filled with rich, warm colors. The rooms and halls were rounded, to support the weight of the dirt above she supposed, and it was sized perfectly for small folk. There was a fire burning in the hearth which gave the home a warm and inviting atmosphere, but all in all Kelda found it was too closed-in for her liking. It reminded her a bit of a rabbit warren and she would have preferred a home with a view of the sky, herself; skylings in general took issue with small, enclosed spaces, but the hobbit's house was just large and roomy enough that she could stay there for a little while with only the slightest discomfort. At least it was warm and would soon be full of people. Kelda liked people, and dwarves in particular, due mostly to having grown up around them; being among a lively group of them would allow her to be more comfortable, she knew. It always had helped before.

As Kelda went to walk past the pantry in order to open a window, she caught sight of two dwarves standing in there talking and she immediately lit up with excitement. Not only were these dwarves, but they were dwarves she knew! They were older now than they had been, and so was she, but they were still easy enough to recognize.

"Skies preserve me, Balin and Dwalin!" She exclaimed, causing the two dwarves to notice her there in the pantry doorway.

"By my beard," Dwalin, who was a rather tough looking fellow with dwarvish tattoos on his bald head, said as Kelda went to give both of the dwarves tight hugs. "Kelda, the little bird of Erebor. Thorin said something about a skyling joining us; I should have known it would be you."

"It's so good to see you both!"

"It's good to see you too, lass," said Balin, an older dwarf of white hair and kind features. "If I may ask, where is your gryphon?"

"Oh, Sith's here, but she's too big to fit through the little door. Actually, are we going to be setting up in the dining room there? Will one of you help me open that window? She might be able to get her head in through there."

"Of course, of course," Balin said as he followed her out of the pantry and into the dining room. "Let's see what we can do."

As Kelda and Balin opened the window and moved some things out of the way so Sitheiyra would have an easier time gaining access, Kelda heard the sound of another couple of dwarves entering the hobbit's home. Bilbo hardly seemed pleased, but as the soft rustling of feathers announced Sitheiyra's arrival at the window, the skyling quickly lost track of whatever was going on in the foyer.

_There's a large group of dwarves approaching, with the wizard accompanying them,_ Sitheiyra said as she put her head through the window. The gryphon looked around at the dwarves moving furniture about in an attempt to make more room and she chirped in amusement. _Oh dear, it's just like home._

_Is he with them? The group on its way, I mean._

_No, I did not see him._

Kelda sighed at the gryphon's answer, but decided that sitting there dwelling on it would not help. So she threw herself into helping the dwarves prepare and soon the little house filled with even more dwarves, as well as Gandalf, who did his best to stay out of the way. Kelda found time as they were gathering what they needed for a feast to introduce herself to all the dwarves she didn't know, and soon she had a collection of names: Balin, Dwalin, Bifur, Bofur, Bombur, Dori, Nori, Ori, Oin, Gloin, Fili, and Kili. She was quick to be able to put name to face. She'd always had a pinpoint accurate memory, part of being connected to a Muzmulomil, and while sometimes having memories so vivid they were as reality could be a nuisance, in this case she knew it would come in handy. There were quite a lot of dwarves with similar names to keep track of.

In what seemed to be becoming a pattern, Bilbo Baggins was not happy about this sudden dwarf party happening in his home. As Kelda found herself standing beside Gandalf, who was taking a moment to count the dwarves, she could see the hobbit wresting a bowl of tomatoes away from the red-haired Nori. She didn't see what Bilbo thought he would accomplish; the moment he put those tomatoes back somebody else was going to take them. The skyling turned her attention back to the tall wizard with her just as he was speaking with a dwarf with an ax embedded in his forehead, whose name was Bifur.

"Yes, you're quite right Bifur," Kelda heard Gandalf saying. "We appear to be one dwarf short."

"He is late is all," Dwalin said from where he leaned just outside the dining room doorway. "He traveled north to a meeting of our kin. He will come."

"A meeting? About Erebor?" Kelda asked quickly. She sounded like an over-eager child despite being one hundred and ninety years old, which was still not even middle aged by Sky-Folk standards; they had extended lives due to their connections with gryphons, with five hundred years of age being the average.

"About everything," Dwalin said, giving the inquisitive skyling a slight smile. "But he'll be here. Sit down with us while there's still room."

Kelda was quick to take the dwarf's advice and found a seat at the table as close to Sitheiyra as she could get. The dwarves' feast was loud and jovial and messy. They had little care for table manners or order; they were there to have fun, to enjoy the food and each other's company and Kelda and Sitheiyra were more than happy to join them. The skyling and the gryphon felt more comfortable there with that merry gathering of dwarves than they had in all the one hundred and seventy some years they'd spent roaming the wilds with their own people since the fall of Erebor. This was the kind of scene they thought of when somebody said 'home'.

"Bombur, catch!" Bofur yelled over the din before throwing an egg to his brother Bombur across the table. The big dwarf caught it in his mouth and the entire table went wild, which was followed by food being flung at each other in every direction while Bilbo stood in the doorway looking on in disgust. As Fili, the blonde haired brother of Kili, walked on the table pouring ale and kicking food out of his way, somebody yelled "Gryphon!" and tossed an entire chicken across the room at Sitheiyra. Without missing a beat the Muzmulomil caught the chicken by a wing and pulled it out the window to hold it in her front talons, her beak cutting through meat and bone alike.

There was a brief moment where the room went entirely silent and everyone stared at the gryphon in the window, but then they all broke out into cheers and once again the room became a cacophony of noise. Kelda laughed, accepting a mug full of ale from Fili as the others continued to throw food at each other and at Sitheiyra. Playing catch with the gryphon seemed to amuse them immensely. Kelda was relieved that they had so quickly become used to having Sitheiyra there; considering most of them had never seen a gryphon of any size, let alone a large one, she had been concerned that they'd take poorly to the Muzmulomil's presence. That didn't seem to be the case however and they were entirely at ease, laughing raucously as Dwalin poured ale into Oin's hearing trumpet. They laughed even harder as the old dwarf spluttered in anger before blowing into the hearing trumpet, making it squeal and sending ale spraying everywhere.

Having become far too comfortable in her current situation, and feeling like nobody was doing quite enough drinking, Kelda stood from her seat and thrust her arm out to hold her mug of ale over the center of the table.

"On the count of three!" She shouted and the twelve dwarves immediately responded, holding their own mugs out to clash together with the various _clanks_ and _thuds_ of colliding metal and wood. "One…two…"

The room went completely silent as everyone tilted their mugs back and they all raced to see who could drink their whole mug down the fastest. Kelda had learned over the years how to correctly chug ale, making it a simple task for her to down her drink without having to stop for a breath, unlike her skyling brethren. They weren't big drinkers to begin with and none of them could keep up with her and her wild ways. Her present company, however, were not of the Sky-Folk and they all gave her a run for her money, but still she managed to come out on top. The skyling was the first to slam her mug down with a loud and satisfied belch.

Kelda was used to being berated by the Elders after doing such things. They would say her behavior was unladylike and crude, she wasn't acting like a queen and she dishonored her bloodline. They would droll on and on about how the blasted dwarves had ruined her while Draxis, Anayla and Amva, her beloved uncle, sister and cousin, would look on in amusement and she herself would simply ignore the naysayers. She was who she was and none of their constant complaining would change that; Kelda knew they wouldn't think her worthy of the crown regardless of her behavior. They would never be content with a cripple ruling them.

Instead of a berating, however, Kelda was answered by a chorus of other burps, belches and laughter as the dwarves finished chugging their drinks. Ori, the youngest of them, let out the loudest and longest burp and as everyone fell to fits of laughter, Bilbo looked at them all in disgust before turning away.

* * *

"Excuse me that is a doily, not a dishcloth!" Bilbo snapped as he yanked at a doily clutched in Nori's hands. Kelda was content to watch the exchange from where she stood wiping down the table. Despite being more than willing to join in the dwarves' misadventures, the skyling wasn't about to leave the place looking like a wreck after dinner. She would have felt terrible if she'd left it all to their poor hosting hobbit, who was obviously frustrated enough as it was.

"But it's full of holes!" Bofur said from where he leaned against the wall, watching as the hobbit yanked the doily from Nori's hands.

"It's supposed to look like that, it's crochet."

"Oh, and a wonderful game it is too, if you've got the balls for it."

"Bebother and confusicate these dwarves!" Kelda heard Bilbo say as he walked away, and she laughed quietly to herself.

"I think he's being a bit over-dramatic. They're not so bad," she said out loud to Sitheiyra as she continued to wipe down the table, scrubbing at a sticky spot of spilled ale.

_I believe that manner of thinking is due to the fact that you may as well be one of them._ The gryphon responded drowsily from where she lay curled up outside, just beneath the still open window.

"If only I could be so lucky," Kelda muttered before heading out of the dining room so she could re-wet the washcloth in the kitchen. She weaved through the wandering mass of dwarves, only to come upon Ori standing in front of Bilbo and Gandalf, who had just been in the midst of conversation.

"Excuse me," the young dwarf said politely to Bilbo. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but what should I do with my plate?"

_I swear on all my ancestors, if he yells at that boy I'll take his head off,_ Kelda thought as she watched the situation with a wary eye and a sudden shot of maternal protectiveness of the young dwarf. She found there was no need for concern, however, as Fili approached them.

"Here you go, Ori, give it to me," Fili said before taking the plate from Ori and throwing it over to Kili. The dark haired brother then threw the plate behind his back to Bifur, who was standing at the kitchen sink. As Bifur caught the plate without even looking at it, everyone began to toss plates and bowls and silverware to each other, every piece ending up unscathed in the sink to be washed. Gandalf ducked lowly to avoid being hit in the head by flying dinnerware.

"Excuse me, that's my mother's West Farthing crockery, it's over a hundred years old!" Bilbo said as he watched his plates flying about in horror. He then turned to glare at the dwarves still at the table, who had begun to rhythmically drum the utensils on the tabletop. "And c-can you not do that? You'll blunt them!"

"Ooh, d'hear that lads?" Bofur said sarcastically, continuing the rhythmic banging in spite of the hobbit's protest. "He says we'll blunt the knives!"

_Hmm,_ Kelda heard Sitheiyra say as the gryphon once again slipped her head through the open window to see what was happening. _Are we about to have us a song?_

_It seems like it,_ Kelda answered, sitting herself down to watch with a contented smirk. Dwarves were prone to random bouts of singing. She never really understood why but she had never minded it and as Kili began to sing, the others joining in after, the skyling settled back and lifted her hand to stroke the underside of Sitheiyra's neck, prepared to enjoy the nightly entertainment.

"_Blunt the knives bend the forks_

_Smash the bottles and burn the corks_

_Chip the glasses and crack the plates_

_That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!_

_Cut the cloth and tread on the fat_

_Leave the bones on the bedroom mat_

_Pour the milk on the pantry floor_

_Splash the wine on every door_

_Dump the crocks in the boiling bowl_

_Pound them up with a thumping pole_

_When you've finished if any are whole_

_Send them down the hall to roll…_

_That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!"_

Kelda just sat there and laughed as Bilbo huffed in anger and pushed through the dwarves to assess the damage, but the dwarves had done none of the things in their song. Instead the dishes were cleaned perfectly and stacked neatly beside the sink; everyone laughed at his disbelief. The laughter stopped abruptly, though, at the sound of three loud, heavy knocks on the door. Everyone went entirely silent and Kelda sat straight up in her chair, her gaze snapping to the front door.

"He is here," Gandalf said quietly and as everyone followed the wizard and the hobbit into the foyer Kelda remained where she was, though she found herself quite unable to continue sitting calmly in her chair. Hearing the sound of the door opening, she lurched to her feet and stood there awkwardly for a moment before going over to Sitheiyra to stoke her ebony feathers, something the skyling often did for reassurance.

"Gandalf. I thought you said this place would be easy to find. I lost my way, twice. Wouldn't have found it at all if it had not been for that mark on the door."

At the sound of the new voice, Kelda froze in place. New wasn't the right word though, not really. Certainly it was new to that particular place, to the hobbit-hole and their host, but not to Kelda. No, to Kelda that voice was old and familiar and suddenly she found herself uncharacteristically terrified.

"Mark?" She heard Bilbo say. "There's no mark on that door. It was painted a week ago!"

"There is a mark on the door; I put it there myself," Gandalf retorted. Kelda could almost see the look of annoyance she imagined would be on the halfling's face at that answer. "Bilbo Baggins, allow me to introduce the leader of our company, Thorin Oakenshield."

"So, this is the Hobbit. Tell me, Mister Baggins, have you done much fighting?" Thorin asked. Kelda could tell by the tone of his voice that he was already skeptical; gods but he sounded exactly the same, besides lacking the typical warmth to his voice that she had been used to.

"Pardon me?" Bilbo responded in confusion.

"Axe or sword? What's your weapon of choice?"

"Well, I have some skill at Conkers, if you must know, but I fail to see how that's relevant."

"Thought as much," Thorin said, his voice heavy with amusement. "He looks more like a grocer than a burglar."

The other dwarves laughed at that, and as she heard them all start moving back into the house and toward the dining room she grew more anxious, shifting herself over as if to hide behind the gryphon in the window. Sitheiyra purred at the skyling with a mixture of amusement and calm reassurance.

_You have faced the wrath of cave trolls without so much as flinching, and yet now you are trembling. Calm yourself, little one. You know him._

_I __**knew**__ him,_ Kelda corrected just as the person in question walked through the doorway. Thorin Oakenshield had been younger the last time she'd seen him, when Erebor fell to the fire-drake. The dwarf prince didn't look all that different, beyond the few strands of silver-gray hair running through his black mane; it made him look dignified, regal even. As he entered the room and his blue eyes fell upon Kelda and Sitheiyra he stopped short, looking them both over as he did.

_You're hiding,_ Sitheiyra said before moving her head to look more directly at Thorin and leaving Kelda with nothing to hide behind. The skyling immediately drew herself up straight, shuffling her wings nervously for a moment before finally deciding on a course of action and bowing her head politely.

"Master Oakenshield," she said, her voice sounding small and wavering, even to herself. Kelda knew the other dwarves were behind him, watching the exchange, and she felt like a fool. The fact that she probably looked as nervous as she felt didn't help her anxiety. She suddenly regretted having spoken at all as she hesitantly raised her gaze back to Thorin, uncertain of the reaction she would get.

"Lady Mage," Thorin answered, meeting her uneasy silver gaze with one of remembered warmth and fondness. Kelda felt the tight knot in her stomach relax a bit at that and she managed to give him a small smile before his attention was taken by one of the other dwarves placing a plate of food on the table in front of him. As she returned to running her hands over Sitheiyra's silky plumage and the dwarves all took their seats once more at the table, Kelda allowed herself a quiet sigh of relief. Perhaps this wouldn't be as difficult as she had first imagined.

_It never is,_ Sitheiyra said in response to Kelda's inner thought. The skyling had every intention of standing there with her gryphon and acting as an outside observer, but found that she would have no such luck as Thorin once again caught her gaze. He motioned for her to take the seat to his right, as was customary when dealing with another person of royal blood. Kelda hesitated; she wasn't used to being so casually recognized by her status but at the same time she didn't want to turn him down, not if it might cause him insult. She probably would have stood there longer if it hadn't been for Sitheiyra. The gryphon gave her a gentle nudge with her beak.

_Go sit with the Stone-Child and try not to look so worried; it is not as if he is going to bite you, _Sitheiyra said, giving Kelda a high whistle of encouragement.

_That's not the issue_, Kelda responded, but she knew the Muzmulomil was right; sitting next to Thorin Oakenshield was hardly going to kill her. So, doing her best to look the part of someone worthy of that honorary seat, Kelda made her way around the table. She slid into the chair with as much grace as she could muster and tried her hardest not to look as nervous as she suddenly felt again.

"What news from the meeting in Ered Luin? Did they all come?" Balin asked Thorin, who nodded his head as he ate.

"Aye. Envoys from all seven kingdoms," Thorin replied. The dwarves muttered amongst themselves at what their prince had said.

"What do the dwarves of the Iron Hills say?" Dwalin asked, leaning forward. "Is Dain with us?

"They will not come," Thorin said solemnly, his statement met by the disappointed gazes and murmurs from his kinsmen. "They say this quest is ours and ours alone."

Kelda let her pale silver gaze sweep over the group of crestfallen dwarves before dropping it to the tabletop. She couldn't say she was entirely surprised that their fellows had denied them any help. Dwarves weren't known to just give out assistance at the best of times, let alone when there was a damned flame-breathing behemoth involved. Still, it was a let-down to be sure; Smaug had plowed through an army of dwarves and men when he'd first appeared, batting them aside like they were insects. How was a group of fifteen supposed to slay him? Kelda prided herself on being a mage capable of destroying any enemy, but in the fire-drake's case she was having a hard time figuring how they were going to manage it.

"You're going on a quest?" Bilbo asked from where he stood at the entrance to the room, curiosity seeming to have won out over his annoyance. Gandalf glanced over at the Hobbit after he spoke, before reaching into his robes and pulling out what looked to Kelda like a folded piece of parchment.

"Bilbo, my dear fellow, let us have a little more light," the wizard said as he bent over the table and spread a map out over it, in front of Thorin. Bilbo hurried and brought a candle into the room, leaning over the table himself to look at the map.

"Far to the east, over ranges and rivers, beyond woodlands and wastelands, lies a single solitary peak," Gandalf said as the others, Kelda included, leaned forward to look at the map themselves.

"The Lonely Mountain," Bilbo said quietly, reading the name off of the map. Kelda's heart clenched at the sight of it there on the paper, just a small ink-mark to represent a wondrous place. Her wings shifted restlessly at the thought of returning to the place she so loved, the rustling of her feathers seeming loud in the quiet of the room.

"Home," the skyling added softly, feeling the eyes of several of the dwarves turn to her as she lifted her gaze to meet Bilbo's across the table, then Thorin's at the head of it. His stare was unwavering and hard to read at first, but once their eyes met his look softened a bit and he gave her an almost imperceptible incline of the head. Kelda couldn't help but smile at his agreement that she had the right to call Erebor home too.

"Aye," Gloin, a dwarf with beads adorning his long red beard, said. "Oin has read the portents, and the portents say it is time."

"Ravens have been seen flying back to the mountain as it has been foretold," said Oin, a gray haired dwarf with intricate braids in his beard. "When the birds of yore return to Erebor, the reign of the beast will end."

"Uh, what beast?" Bilbo asked, looking around in concern at the gathered group. Kelda raised her brows slightly.

"You don't know?" She asked in disbelief, unsure how anyone could _not_ have known about the fire-drake inhabiting the Lonely Mountain.

"Well, that would be a reference to Smaug the Terrible, chiefest and greatest calamity of our age," said Bofur. "Airborne fire-breather, teeth like razors, claws like meat-hooks, extremely fond of precious metals—"

"Yes, I know what a dragon is." Bilbo interrupted quickly.

"Well I'm not afraid! I'm up for it. I'll give him a taste of dwarvish iron right up his jacksie," Ori announced, causing the others to go into an uproar, talking over themselves loudly and enthusiastically.

"Sit down!" Dori said as he pulled Ori back down into his chair.

"The task would be difficult enough with an army behind us," Balin said, echoing Kelda's earlier thought. "But we number just thirteen, and not thirteen of the best and brightest."

"Fourteen," Kelda added, but only the older dwarf heard her as the room once again flew into an uproar, with shouted comments such as 'Who are you calling dim?' and other similar expressions filling the room with a cacophony of noise.

"I apologize, lass," Balin leaned over and said to Kelda, his expression kind. "I didn't mean you."

"We may be few in number, but we're fighters, all of us, down to the last dwarf!" Fili shouted, garnering the attention of the others.

"And you forget," began Kili, sitting next to his older brother. "We have a wizard in our company. Gandalf will have killed hundreds of dragons in his time!"

Gandalf looked up sharply at this statement, and Kelda found herself having to hide her smile behind her hand at his expression. Suddenly she was glad that she was not in any real position of 'expertise', besides being a spell-slinger.

"Oh, well, now, uh, I...I-I wouldn't say that, I," the wizard began to stammer, but was interrupted by Dori as the gray haired dwarf leaned forward to look at him.

"How many then?"

"Erm, what?"

"Well, how many dragons have you killed? Go on, give us a number!"

The wizard started coughing on his pipe smoke, obviously embarrassed, and once again the dwarves began shouting over one another, this time all arguing about how many dragons they each thought Gandalf had killed.

"_Shazara!_" Thorin bellowed angrily, suddenly jumping to his feet and causing everyone else in the room to go immediately silent. Kelda flinched at the sound of his raised voice, her silvery eyes snapping to him as he spoke. "If we have read these signs, do you not think others will have read them too? Rumors have begun to spread. The dragon Smaug has not been seen for sixty years. Eyes look east to the mountain, assessing, wondering, weighing the risks. Perhaps the vast wealth of our people now lies unprotected. Do we sit back while others claim what's rightfully ours? Or do we seize this chance to take back Erebor? _Du Bekâr! Du Bekâr!"_

The dwarf prince's battle cry rang in Kelda's ears and as his fellows broke into roaring cheers, she was unable to stop the wide smile of elation that spread across her face. The skyling very nearly bounced with anticipation at the thought of not only the adventure, but the fact that a free Erebor, returned to its glory, was surely waiting for them at the end of it. She could not only see Thorin's determination but he made her _feel_ it in a way only a true leader could; he'd take back the Lonely Mountain through sheer force of will if he had to and, dragon and death be damned, she'd help him do it.

The feeling of large hands resting on her shoulders made the skyling tear her gaze from Thorin, and she looked up to find Gandalf standing behind her. He looked down at her with raised eyebrows and an amused expression, his gaze flickering from her to Thorin and then back, and Kelda felt her cheeks burn with heat. By the sky's blue breath, had she been staring? She sighed internally; she'd been staring and the wizard had noticed. Kelda cleared her throat in embarrassment, shifted her weight in her chair and returned her attention to the other rowdy dwarves while intentionally avoiding looking at their leader again.

"You forget," Balin said once the cheering had died down a bit. "The front gate is sealed. There is no way into the mountain."

"That, my dear Balin, is not entirely true," Gandalf said. The wizard twiddled his fingers and suddenly a key appeared in his hand, where nothing had been before. It was fairly large, ornate and was most obviously a dwarf-made key. As Thorin saw it his eyes widened and he stared at it in wonder.

"How came you by this?" Thorin asked, looking up from the key to Gandalf.

"It was given to me by your father, by Thrain, for safekeeping. It is yours now," the wizard said, reaching out and handing the key to Thorin who took it from him reverently, turning it over in his hands and looking more closely at it. Kelda stood out of her seat, resting her hands on the edge of the table to lean forward and peer at the old key, entirely ignorant of the fact that she probably shouldn't have been invading the dwarf prince's personal space like she was.

"If there's a key, there must be a door," Fili said, looking around at the others. Gandalf looked at the young dwarf momentarily before using the tip of his long tobacco pipe to point at some runes along the edge of the map.

"These runes speak of a hidden passage to the lower halls."

"There's another way in!"

"Well, if we can find it, but dwarf doors are invisible when closed," Gandalf replied to Kili's excited statement. "The answer lies hidden in this map and I do not have the skill to find it."

"What of you?" Thorin said, turning to look at Kelda. The skyling, startled by the dwarf suddenly turning to her, would have jumped a foot backwards if she hadn't had the chair behind her. Instead the chair nearly fell over when she bumped into it and she silently cursed how close she'd allowed herself to get to Thorin while looking at the key. He'd caught her by surprise.

"Me?" Kelda chirped. The corners of Thorin's eyes crinkled in what seemed like amusement and he gave a slight nod of the head.

"You're a spell-caster. Can you find what the wizard cannot?"

"Oh, no. No, sorry, but my abilities lie in battle-magic and healing. Deciphering subtle magic such as this is not within my capabilities."

"Battle-magic? What kind of battle magic?" Ori asked, gazing at her curiously.

"Well, I could go for hours really explaining what _kind_ of battle magic, as there are all kinds and every magic user has their own specialties. But, as I'm sure nobody wants to sit here that long, I'll keep it simple and narrow it down to four things." Kelda held up four fingers, tapping each one as she listed an item off. "One: I use various defensive spells, from creating invisible walls to active camouflage. Two: I blow stuff up. People, things, whatever makes no difference. Three: I use force-energy to manipulate objects and/or crush things to paste. And four: I heal. I'm the one that comes to the rescue when you're bleeding out on the battlefield and need someone to push your guts back in. Moral of the story? You should all want to be _really_ nice to me."

"We'll be certain to keep that in mind, Lady Mage," Thorin said, giving her a patient but firm look. He needed to keep everyone on topic, which was difficult enough as it was and she wasn't helping. Kelda simply looked back at him with a smile that radiated pure innocence.

_Stop flirting at the war-council, little one. It's unbecoming._

_ Shut up, Sitheiyra, I'm not flirting._ Kelda shot back to Sitheiyra, giving her a mental shove to which the Muzmulomil simply replied with mischievous laughter.

"There are others in Middle-Earth who can find what we're looking for," Gandalf interjected quickly, before anything else could be said. "The task I have in mind will require a great deal of stealth, and no small amount of courage. But, if we are careful and clever, I believe that it can be done."

"That's why we need a burglar."

"Hm, and a good one, too," Bilbo said after having been silent for quite some time. Kelda had almost forgotten he was there. "An expert, I imagine."

"And are you?" Gloin asked. Bilbo looked up, furrowing his brow.

"Am I what?"

"He said he's an expert!" Oin said, causing the rest of them to laugh and grow rowdy once again. The hobbit, suddenly realizing what exactly they were going on about, immediately began shaking his head and protesting.

"M-me? No, no, no, no, no. I'm not a burglar; I've never stolen a thing in my life."

"I'm afraid I have to agree with Mister Baggins," Balin said, looking between Gandalf, Thorin and Bilbo with an expression of wise caution. "He's hardly burglar material."

With Bilbo nodding in agreement, Thorin glanced at him, the wizard and then at Kelda. He arched an eyebrow, silently asking for her opinion, which she was more than willing to give him. Kelda looked Bilbo Baggins over herself and she couldn't say she disagreed with Thorin's earlier statement that he looked more like a grocer than a burglar. He was about her height which, as far as she knew, was the average size for a hobbit. Curly hair, not exactly lean, impeccably dressed, even though he wore casual attire. The hobbit looked like gentlefolk and while the skyling knew that many times looks could be deceiving she couldn't see how he had any potential to be a warrior. He was too soft of hand, too quiet of voice and if he was flustered at the appearance of a group of friendly dwarves, how would he react to the calamity that was Smaug? Kelda imagined his heart would give out at the sight.

"I don't know," she said with a dubious look and a shrug of her shoulders. "As much as I want to say to trust the wizard's instincts, I'm not sure dragging the halfling about with us in the wilds is a risk worth taking."

"Aye," Dwalin said gruffly. "The wild is no place for gentlefolk who can neither fight nor fend for themselves."

Bilbo continued to nod his head in agreement with them and once again the room fell into chaos as the dwarves began to argue among themselves. Kelda sighed, crossing her arms as she watched them. Anybody else would have found this odd, the way they seemed to always fly into an uproar, but the skyling woman knew that it was just how they were. There was no ill will or anger in their raised voices. Shouting at each other was simply the dwarvish way of working things out.

That didn't mean it wasn't trying at times, however, and as the dwarves got louder their wizard began to get angry. The air became thicker and heavy with static in a similar way to the atmosphere before a storm. Kelda couldn't help but grow tense as she watched darkness begin to fill the room, centering on Gandalf. The wizard stood, rising to his full height, and then began to speak angrily in a voice that was unnaturally loud and echoing.

_"Enough! If I say Bilbo Baggins is a burglar, then a burglar he is."_

The dining room was deathly quiet and everyone stared at the wizard with a mixture of fear and awe, like he was suddenly some great and unknown beast having appeared in their midst. The darkness receded and Gandalf resumed his normal tone of voice, once again looking like no more than an old man, but it had been a solid reminder to all of them of his truer nature as an envoy of old and powerful gods.

"Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet," Gandalf continued calmly. "In fact, they can pass unseen by most if they choose. And while the dragon is accustomed to the smell of dwarf, the scent of Hobbits is all but unknown to him, giving us a distinct advantage. You asked me to find the fourteenth and fifteenth members of this company and, along with Kelda, I have chosen Mister Baggins. There's a lot more to him than appearances suggest and he's got a great deal more to offer than any of you know," Gandalf turned to give Bilbo a quick glance. "Including himself. You must trust me on this."

"Very well," Thorin relented after looking Gandalf over for a moment. "We will do it your way."

"No! No, no, no," Bilbo said, turning to look at the dwarf prince. Thorin ignored the hobbit, turning his attention to Balin instead.

"Give him the contract."

"Please," Bilbo pleaded, his words falling on deaf ears as Balin handed the folded contract to Thorin, who simply slapped it against the hobbit's chest without looking at him. Kelda could see that he was annoyed with having to bring the halfling along, though he hid it relatively well by dwarf standards.

"It's just the usual summary of out-of-pocket expenses," Balin was saying cheerfully to Bilbo as the hobbit began to unfold the long contract. "Time required, remuneration, funeral arrangements and so forth."

"Funeral arrangements?"

Kelda watched Bilbo's reactions as he read the contract to himself, stepping a few feet out of the room. His brow furrowed ever more at every word he read. Out of the corner of her eye Kelda saw Thorin lean over to Gandalf, the two of them sharing a few quiet words. Judging by their expressions she could guess the gist of the conversation. The dwarves would not stop to look out for the halfling should something happen to him. They would not help those who could not help themselves; it wasn't out of cruelty, it was just the dwarvish way. They valued a person's deeds and capabilities over all else. A person had to prove their worth to a dwarf.

The skyling sighed, closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose between her fingers. She hadn't the slightest inkling as to what the wizard could possibly be thinking. The hobbit would be killed, she had no doubt about that. As they all watched Bilbo look over the contract Kelda knew that in the end, if he joined them, she would make him her responsibility. There was no way she'd be able to leave him to fend for himself and come away with a clean conscience. Kelda looked back over at Bilbo once he began to read some of the contract aloud.

"Terms: Cash on delivery, up to but not exceeding one fifteenth of total profit, if any. Seems fair. Eh, present company shall not be liable for injuries inflicted by or sustained as a consequence thereof, including but not limited to lacerations…evisceration…eh, incineration?"

"Oh aye, melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye," Bofur said, his tone overly cheerful, considering the topic of conversation.

"Huh." Bilbo began to turn a bit pale, looking as if he couldn't quite keep his breath. Kelda sighed and rested her face in the palm of her hand, seeing the signs and knowing exactly what was coming.

"Are you alright, laddie?" Kelda heard Balin ask, regardless of the fact that it was quite obvious what the answer was. The skyling could hear the nausea in the halfing's voice when he responded.

"Uh, yeah…feel a bit faint."

"Think furnace with wings," Bofur added again, unhelpfully.

"Air, I-I-I need air."

"Flash of light, searing pain, then _Poof!_ You're nothing more than a pile of ash."

There was a short moment of silence that followed, filled with the heavy breathing of a hobbit trying to compose himself. Then a softly spoken 'nope', and a thud as Bilbo fell to the floor. Sitheiyra twittered in amusement at the fainted halfing.

"Ah, very helpful, Bofur," Kelda heard Gandalf say. She sighed heavily again, turning her silvery eyes to the ceiling; oh yes, she was in for it indeed.

* * *

**Khuzdul translations**:

Muzmulomil-beast of the night

Shazara-silence

Du Bekâr- to arms


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Middle Earth and its inhabitants are copyright JRR Tolkien. Kelda, Sitheira and the Sky Folk are mine. :-)**

* * *

Kelda sat with her knees pulled up to her chest in front of the hearth as she watched the flames flicker within. Her wings were held loosely open, stretched out on either side of her to avoid the discomfort of them being scrunched against the floor as she sat. In one room Gandalf watched over the hobbit, which had yet to recover from his earlier fainting spell. On her other side, still mostly in the dining room but having spread out a bit into other rooms, the dwarves murmured quietly to each other. The skyling found herself in the middle, a quiet observer. For the moment she watched Fili and Kili sitting at the table bullshitting together. Thorin was their uncle, their mother's brother, and with Thorin having no heirs of his own that she was aware of Fili, the older brother, was next in line for the throne of Erebor. The line of Durin yet endured.

Kelda was glad that they seemed to be doing well…her own family just seemed to get smaller. She, her little sister Anayla, their uncle Draxis, and his daughter Amva were all that were left. They had lost her older brother Shalix to dragon fire during the calamity and after the fall of Erebor her mother Drekka, the Queen of the Sky-Folk, had made a desperate and foolish attempt to retake the Throne of Stars, their old kingdom in the Grey Mountains to the north. Like all of the ancient kingdoms there it had been sacked by fire-drakes long ago. Despite the resistance from the remainder of the family, at the insistence of the Elders the Queen had gathered the mightiest of their people and headed north. None of them returned and were thought to have been slaughtered; a ridiculous waste of life. Kelda had still been too young to take up her mother's crown and so the custodial duty of what remained of their people had fallen to the Elders. They lived like gypsies, traveling along the east side of the Misty Mountains, selling their skills and their wares as they traveled between the great kingdoms of man, Rohan and Gondor. They lived off the land, hunted for food, traveled the skies and hoped that one day they'd find their place.

Looking to where Thorin and Balin stood together in the curved entry of a nearby hallway speaking in hushed tones, she wondered if this would be that time. Kelda loved Erebor and truly did want to help the dwarves reclaim their ancestral home…but she had reasons of her own for joining the dwarves' quest. The skyling was hoping beyond hope that if she helped the line of Durin return to the Lonely Mountain, she and her people might be allowed to stay. If that meant going through with the contract drawn between her mother and Thorin's grandfather before the fall of Erebor, then so be it. It was a sacrifice she was willing to make for the sake of her people and, if she were to be honest with herself, it wasn't really much of a sacrifice and one she didn't mind making. Or it shouldn't have been; she had never had doubts about her promise before, but as she sat there the nagging feeling that she wasn't worthy of fulfilling it fluttered around the back of her mind.

_Having doubts, Queen of Skies?_

_I wish you would not call me that. 'Queen of Skies'. I am not the Queen of Skies; my mother was the Queen of Skies. I am Kelda, not Drekka. I'm a hunter, a warrior, a healer and a flightless cripple. I'm not the Queen of anything. They don't even want me to lead them in the first place. I don't know, Sith. Maybe the Elders were right. Maybe this was a bad idea._

_None in the line of Réalta have ever turned away from a challenge nor backed out of a promise._ Kelda heard Sitheiyra's cool voice roll through her head; it reminded her that the gryphon was with her, regardless of distance. The Muzmulomil was once again lounging about somewhere outside of the house. _You have proven your worth many times over. You have the love and loyalty of our people, regardless of what the Elders say or do; the Sky Folk know who is truly responsible for their survival thus far. Let not your fears or the opinions of others hold you back. You are not alone. The dwarves need us and if the worst to happen is that you must honor your mother's end of the contract and marry Thorin Oakenshield, then we are lucky. You would not even consider any other choice of mate and you well know it._

Kelda sighed, biting her lip as she looked up from the fire to the dwarf prince in the other room. It was a point of concern for her, one that she had been attempting to ignore since Gandalf had told her of Oakenshield's survival. It was true that Thorin had never spoken harshly to her, had always been soft of voice and of a kind demeanor when she'd known him in Erebor. Meeting him had been a happy accident, one that had brought light and hope to her future and the future of her people. She had loved him and the roots of that remained buried into the center of her being.

One hundred and seventy years was a long time to be apart, though, and she was not the girl she once was. She wasn't whole, wasn't confident despite the act she put on and wasn't really a queen, at least certainly not the kind that should stand beside the King Under the Mountain. Even if their relationship had been true then, she was damaged goods now and hardly worth the time or attention of a proud dwarf king.

_Do not buy in to the thoughts of your brainless fellows, little one. You know as well as I that dwarves judge you based on ability, and not on some ridiculous traditional ideal. They have no wings, cannot fly even the slightest. Why would they care about your ability to fly or not fly? After all, I am more than capable of doing that for the both of us. It is not the Sky-Folk Elders you are accompanying on this quest. Nor is it their opinions that should currently matter. The opinion that matters is that of a dwarf, a dwarf you grew up with, one you still love and who loves you just as much. You can fight, you can heal, you can hunt and you are loyal and good of heart. What more can he ask for? _

_Dwarves may respect one's abilities over all else, but they don't often forget when you fail, either. _

_And you truly believe your Mountain King will think you a failure? Due to something you had no control over? In that case, he is one too. You are now on equal grounds, the problem is solved._

Kelda frowned slightly as she thought about what to say to Sitheiyra's very good point, but as she went to respond a shadow fell over her, and an achingly familiar voice asked:

"Where are your beads?"

Kelda visibly started at the sudden interruption in her mental conversation. It was hard to be entirely aware of what was going on around her sometimes when she was that deeply embedded in her connection with the Muzmulomil and she rarely allowed herself to go that deep unless she felt completely safe, though she had no trouble feeling at ease with the dwarves milling about. The skyling looked up to see Thorin standing there looking at her, his expression much more open now that the night's business had been mostly concluded.

_Ah, speak of a spirit and he shall appear,_ Sitheiyra said, her voice tinged with mischief. _Do remember to look him in the eye, Queen of Skies, and try not to blush._

"Er, I'm sorry, what?" Kelda asked the dwarf, ignoring Sitheiyra's teasing comment altogether. She could hear the gryphon laughing at her expense.

"I interrupted a conversation." Thorin stated in a mildly apologetic tone, realizing what had been going on to make the skyling startle like she had. It wasn't the first time he'd accidentally scared her while she was talking to Sitheiyra, though the last time had been long ago. He seemed almost amused that it still happened.

"No-I mean yes, but it's, eh, it's fine. It wasn't important; you, um, you asked me something?"

Kelda tried not to make a face at the way she was stumbling over her words, but she realized she must not have been entirely successful, judging by the smirk that briefly tugged at Thorin's lips. The fact that the skyling could feel a blush crawling across her face didn't make her feel any better, either.

"You used to wear those golden dwarvish beads in your plumage," he said, motioning with a hand to the brightly colored feathers on her head. He seemed to have chosen to ignore her obvious nervousness for the time being, a decision she was quite grateful for.

"Oh! Oh, yes," Kelda said as she lightly brushed a hand over her feathers. "Yes, well, that's a long, strange tale and I don't want to bore you with it, but the simple answer is that I had to use them to buy my sister and cousin back from a group of bandits and I haven't run into any dwarves who I might be able to get to replace them since so, yeah. There it is."

"That does not sound like a boring tale to me, Lady Mage. Perhaps you'll be willing to share it with the company along the road? I'm sure we will have plenty of time for it on our quest. Speaking of which…"

Thorin pulled some folded parchment out of his tunic, which looked suspiciously like the contract Bilbo had fainted over earlier. Kelda doubted it would be much different from the hobbit's and as she had no issue with the terms she had overheard, when the dwarf handed it to her she simply retrieved her quill from its place on her belt, went to the signature page and signed her name in flowing script without so much as looking at it. As she went to hand it back to Thorin he didn't immediately move to take it, instead looking at her with an expression of slight disapproval.

"You're meant to read it."

"The terms sounded more than reasonable, from what I heard the hobbit read. Besides, I trust you," Kelda answered him with a slight shrug of her shoulders and a smile, still holding the contract out to him. Thorin kept his stern look, his dwarvish stubbornness coming out to clash with the skyling's own intractable nature.

"Trust is irrelevant. This is business; it must be taken seriously."

"Master Oakenshield, I'll have you know I take my commitments very seriously. Just ask any of the men who have tried to convince me to bed them since my _last_ oath to you; they were all terribly disappointed to find just how seriously I take a contract," she answered casually, only to find that the dwarf prince did not find any entertainment in her facetious answer. Kelda sighed then, dropping her hand to rest the contract in her lap and letting her gaze fall to it. "You know, there was a time when you wouldn't have even bothered getting me to sign a contract. I would have followed you anywhere, contract or no contract, because I trusted you. Our entire relationship was built on trust. Does that make it irrelevant too?"

Kelda kept her eyes down, her face the perfect replica of a child on the verge of tears. After a short moment she heard Thorin breathe a relenting sigh, his outstretched hand appearing in her peripheral. The skyling immediately broke character and a bright smile of victory spread across her face as she looked up at him and gave him the contract.

"Your stubbornness does you no credit," Thorin said as he replaced the contract back in the folds of his tunic. Kelda laughed outright, earning her a flat look from the dwarf prince.

"_My_ stubbornness? Oh please, spare me," she said as she hopped to her feet in one quick movement, shaking out her stiff wings. "Besides, you know you missed me."

"Well, I certainly did _not_ miss the way you wield guilt as a weapon," he answered, though the softness to his voice told her otherwise. She thought about needling him for it, but found herself entirely unable to do so as he turned a familiar warm gaze upon her. "Welcome to the company, Lady Mage."

"I'm happy to be of service," Kelda responded politely, her ability to hide herself behind humor leaving her as her mouth curved up into a shy smile. "You may count on my aid, as well as Sitheiyra's. Our power and our knowledge are yours, in battle or otherwise."

"Come," Thorin said, waving a hand to where he had been standing earlier with Balin. The elder dwarf was still there, watching their exchange. "We are discussing our plans and I would appreciate the opinion of one as well traveled as you are."

"Absolutely! My experience is at your disposal. Lead the way, great king," she said, her joking tone having returned to her. To anybody else it would have looked like Thorin didn't react but Kelda noticed his brow twitch slightly and the glint in his eye as he glanced at her before he headed back to where Balin waited in the circular hallway.

As Kelda took her place beside Thorin, Balin looked at her and winked. Kelda gave him a small smile, shifting her weight from one foot to the other as Thorin unfolded the map Gandalf had given him earlier and held it out in front of him. It was familiar, in an odd way, standing with Balin and Thorin and talking about some such thing. They'd never been important things, of course. She'd only been nineteen when she saw them last. She wasn't part of their royal court, or their war council and even if she had been she would have been too young yet to have anything useful to add.

She wasn't a child anymore; she had experience and abilities that could help them get to Erebor. She had something to contribute. She was useful, and yet Kelda wasn't sure she preferred it. Thorin hadn't needed to pay her any attention before, even with their looming betrothal. He'd had no reason to spend any time with her unless he wanted to. That wasn't quite true anymore and while the largest part of her told her that it was unfair to him to jump to conclusions, a smaller, more persistent voice in the back of her mind reminded her that nobody else kept her around simply because they wanted to. They kept her around because she was useful. She knew that was all she was going to get them to admit, that she had uses, but that wasn't she wanted here. Not with him.

"We thought we would go East," Thorin began, snapping Kelda's attention back to him as he trailed his finger along the East Road on the map he held out in front of him. "As quiet and careful as we can, as far as the Long Lake. It's after that the trouble will begin-"

"_After_?" Kelda blurted, before really realizing what she was doing. She cleared her throat as Thorin turned to her with slightly raised eyebrows. "I mean, er, pardon me, Master Oakenshield, but you obviously don't know the roads east if you believe that we'll only find trouble after we've reached Laketown. I can't tell you too much about the roads this side of the Misties, but my people hunt that range and travel the wilderness east of them, from the realm of Gondor to the edge of the Mirkwood. The mountain pass travels through hard terrain that hides giants, goblins, sometimes even trolls and ogres. The wilderness past the mountain paths is riddled with wild beasts, bandits, and Orc packs roam the mountains _and _beyond. There's no way we'll avoid trouble."

Thorin looked at Kelda thoughtfully for a short moment, seeming to contemplate what she had said, then nodded his head.

"You're right. The dangers are numerous, but we'll deal with them as they come. You and I will have to have a more detailed discussion of the topic on the road. In the meantime, however…" Thorin returned his attention to the map, tapping his finger on the parchment. "We might go from the Long Lake up along the River Running and so to the ruins of Dale-the old town in the valley there, under the shadow of the Mountain. None of us like the idea of the-"

"That's what I thought. Sorry, Gandalf, I can't sign this. You've got the wrong Hobbit," Kelda heard, dragging her away from what the dwarf prince was saying. She looked up at the sound of the hobbit's voice, just in time to watch as Bilbo Baggins retreated to the relative safety of a room on the other side of the house. She glanced at the two dwarves with her, who had also stopped what they were doing to watch the hobbit walk away.

_Hmm_, Sitheiyra said, having caught enough of Kelda's thoughts to know what had occurred without having seen it herself. _Oh well, at the very least now we will have none to worry for but ourselves._

_So it would seem._

"It appears we have lost our burglar," Balin sighed. "Probably for the best. The odds were always against us. After all, what are we? Merchants, miners, tinkers, toy-makers; hardly the stuff of legend."

"There are a few warriors among us," Thorin responded, looking at the older dwarf. Balin gave him a half-hearted smile.

"Old warriors."

"I will take each and every one of these dwarves over an army of the Iron Hills. For when I called upon them, they came. Loyalty. Honor," Thorin turned his gaze to Kelda, meeting the skyling's silvery eyes. "A willing heart. I can ask no more than that."

Kelda held the dwarf prince's gaze, surprised at how difficult she suddenly found it; she couldn't quite stop the bloom of color across her cheeks as she gave him a small smile in answer. She could feel Sitheiyra's silent amusement at her reaction floating about the back of her mind, and her blush grew even worse. By the Sky above, but she was acting like a lovesick youngling.

"You don't have to do this," Balin said, leaning forward a bit to catch Thorin's eye. "You have a choice. You've done honorably by our people. You have built a new life for us in the Blue Mountains, a life of peace and plenty. A life that is worth more than all the gold in Erebor."

"From my grandfather to my father, this has come to me," Thorin answered, holding out the key Gandalf had given to him earlier. "They dreamt of the day when the dwarves of Erebor would reclaim their homeland. There is no choice, Balin. Not for me."

"Then we are with you, laddie. We will see it done."

"I suppose that settles it then. Burglar or no burglar, we'll get to that mountain and kick that dirty parasite out on his ass. In pieces, if need be." Kelda said cheerfully. Thorin looked at her, eyebrows arched high over his blue eyes and amusement clear on his face.

"In pieces, Lady Mage?"

"Yes, in pieces. Then I'm going to skin him and wear him as armor," the skyling said firmly, crossing her arms over her chest. She shifted from one foot to the other uncomfortably, not so much due to Thorin's attention this time but more so due to the way the walls seemed to be slowly inching their way toward her. Her tolerance for the small space was growing thin. She shrugged then, to hide her growing discomfort behind a nonchalant mask. "Unless, of course, you would prefer him to remain in one piece, in which case I will restrain myself. It is your call after all, yes? I can hardly expect to go against your wishes. At any rate, I believe I will settle myself under the stars with Sitheiyra tonight; I have need of the fresh air."

"Are you quite certain you wouldn't rather stay in here out of the elements, lass?" Balin asked, watching Kelda as she stretched her wings, shaking them out a bit before once again folding them neatly. "I'm sure we could find a way to fit the gryphon through the door, if that's your concern."

"Gods no, Sith would be simply incensed at the indignity of such a thing!" Kelda laughed, feeling Sitheiyra's bemused expression as she thought, _Must you insist on using me as an excuse for your wish to run and hide?_

_I'm not running from anything. It's just become a bit too cramped in here for me,_ Kelda shot back to the gryphon before continuing. "At this point I've been living at the whim of the elements for so long it feels strange not to. I thank you for your concern, it's very kind of you, but I'll be fine."

"No." Thorin said firmly, causing Kelda to turn and look at him incredulously, arching a feathered brow.

"No? And why not? It's not as if I'm going to slip away in the middle of the night; I signed your contract and I am not known to go back on my word, as I mentioned to you before."

"But you have been known to wander off foolishly and get yourself into trouble and I would prefer the company stay together if at all possible from now until our quest's end," The dwarf prince said as he simply looked right back at her, exuding quiet authority. "The lads will need to get used to having you and the gryphon around as well."

"Unless you're uncomfortable staying here, Kelda. We are, of course, aware of the Skylings' discomfort in smaller spaces," Balin added gently, shooting the other dwarf a sharp look as he did.

"Oh no, no it's _fine_," Kelda answered Balin shortly, though she kept her eyes on Thorin. "He's right of course. How could he not be? He is King Under, Over and Around the damned Mountain after all. I shall concede to your wishes and remain then, oh Wise and Illustrious Leader, despite how _small_ this hobbit-hole is. I wouldn't want to wander off and cause you any unneeded difficulty. That would be oh so _inconsiderate_ of me."

Kelda was absolutely incensed. She didn't enjoy taking orders on the best of days, let alone when someone accused her of 'foolishly' going off in search of danger. She was aware that she could be impulsive, but there was little chance of her finding any trouble in the Shire and she felt like the walls were slowly closing in on her. She'd spent just a little too much time in the small dwelling and had exceeded her ability to remain comfortable. Regardless of whatever reasons he thought she needed to stay, Kelda was angry with Thorin Oakenshield and wasn't about to let it remain unknown.

"I will be claiming the seat under the window in the sitting room as my own, just so that I can stick my head out and remember the sky is still there in case I feel like I'm suffocating in the night. That is where I'll be should you have need of me," She didn't bother to hide the tightness in her voice as she gave Thorin a curt bow of the head. "Master Oakenshield."

The skyling mage turned on her heel and stepped out of the room without waiting for a reply. She went to open a window in the sitting room, where the fireplace still burned and gave off a warm glow. Upon finding the window she unlatched it, pushing it open harshly. Seeing that it was just large enough to fit her, Kelda climbed up onto the love-seat below the window and swung her legs over the window sill, perching herself in the window to face out into the night. She took several deep gulps of the cool air, the feeling of the breeze on her skin calming her considerably.

_You know he meant you no offense, little one. You are simply no longer as used to his ways as you once were._ Kelda heard Sitheiyra say. She could tell the Muzmulomil was already making her way around from where she had been laying beneath the dining room window.

_That's all well and good, but I __**did**__ take offense and I damn well intend to remain offended for quite some time._

_Only until he attempts to make it up to you, then you will willingly accept whatever he does in apology, substantial or otherwise, and act as if this never happened. Exactly as you would have before._

Sitheiyra appeared out of the darkness to sit beside the window, peering at the skyling with her large green eyes. Kelda simply sighed and reached out to run her hands over Sitheiyra's neck before resting her forehead against the gryphon's.

_I have no plan to forgive him so easily._

_That is what you've said every time,_ the gryphon chuckled. _You are both so ridiculously stubborn, but it the end it will come to the same conclusion._

_Oh? And what conclusion is that?_

_You are his One, Queen of Skies. There is only ever one conclusion. _Sitheiyra answered simply, before pulling her head back to look at something behind Kelda. _We have company._

At Sitheiyra's prompt, Kelda turned to find Balin standing in the entry way holding a tray with two cups and a steaming tea-pot on it. The dwarf gave her an apologetic smile.

"I hope I'm not interrupting, but I thought you might like an evening cup of tea?"

"I'll never turn down a cup of tea," Kelda replied, sliding herself out of the window to sit in the love seat and leaving enough room for the dwarf to join her, if he so wished it. He did so, offering her the cup of tea which she took with a smile of gratitude. "Thank you. I assume you remember my Muzmulomil, Sitheiyra? Sith, surely you remember Balin."

"I do remember," Balin said, giving the gryphon a polite bow of his head in response to her own trill of greeting. "But it was quite some time ago. She was still fairly small; it's an honor to see her in her full glory. You don't drink tea, do you Lady Gryphon?"

_Tea? _Sitheiyra hummed in amusement, the deep sound making the glass in the room vibrate. _Little one, might you tell him that is very kind of him, but I doubt there is any of my preferred drink here? And if there is any, there's hardly enough._

"Sitheiyra appreciates the offer, Master Dwarf, but the only hominid drinks she enjoys are Honey Mead and Skyling Rum, and I very much doubt that you have the several barrels that it would take to satisfy her," Kelda said, laughing at Balin's expression of surprise. "Gryphs have a tolerance to surpass elves, as I'm sure you can imagine. Regardless, she doesn't mind us drinking our tea."

"Ah, well, we'll have to keep that in mind, won't we?"

Kelda simply nodded wordlessly as she took a sip of her tea, her eyes finding the figure of Thorin Oakenshield holding a conversation with Dwalin in the other room. Balin must have followed her gaze, because he gave her a gentle pat on the arm.

"Don't mind Thorin, lass. He didn't mean to be quite so firm with you, he's just a bit on edge."

"Hm, it's fine. It's nothing I'm not already used to," Kelda answered, relishing the feeling of warmth that washed through her body with every sip of the hot tea. It helped greatly dampen her anxiety, which had built up so easily in the hobbit's little home. "I am more than capable of dealing with his sour attitude. Believe me; the behavior of the human lords we make trade with is often far worse."

"Yes, well, he'll feel badly about it in the morning, no doubt. If someone is going to get any kind of apology out of him, it'll most certainly be you."

"Maybe." The skyling said, subconsciously reaching up to fiddle with the pendant that hung on a chain around her neck. Balin was silent for a beat, watching Kelda for a moment before speaking again.

"Mahal knows he's not likely to tell you the truth of it, so I may as well do it for him. He doesn't need you to stay close because he distrusts you or thinks you'll bring trouble. It's not for the sake of the lads, either, but really for his peace of mind. He made a promise way back when, one that he wasn't able to keep at the time," Balin said, looking pointedly at the necklace she was playing with. "But he's of a mind to try and keep it now."

Kelda glanced at Balin briefly and, noticing where his gaze had gone, she looked down at the pendant herself. Her fingers traced over the image of a feather on the front of it and the runes on the back. A jagged crack ran down the center of it, from having been broken and then repaired.

"The King Under the Mountain hardly has to be concerned with keeping a century old promise to the likes of me," Kelda continued as she reached to run her hand along the underside of the gryphon's neck. "I'm naught but a lowly spell slinger, after all."

"Well, that's not true," the dwarf answered immediately. "You are the Queen of Skies and every dwarf in this company is aware of it, even if they pretend they aren't."

"I'm the Queen of Skies?" Kelda said, laughing as if the statement was absurd. "Oh please, do tell the Elders that if you see them. They'll get quite a kick out of it, I'm sure. The Skylings being ruled by a flightless war-mage? Hardly."

"Ah, well, flightless or not you're the rightful Queen of Skies and you'll be treated as such. Thorin will not stand for anything less," Balin answered. Kelda rolled her eyes at him, though secretly she was pleased; she was not used to someone being so openly accepting of her, a crippled skyling, as the Queen of Skies. It reminded her of why she so preferred dwarves to others, why she'd been so excited to be among them once more.

"If it helps at all," Balin continued when Kelda didn't say anything else. "Thorin does not quite know how to react to this. He remembers a young girl who did whatever she wished whenever she wished and cared not for what anyone thought about it; the one who demanded his attention, who disregarded rank and status and refused to call him by anything other than 'Thorin'. I don't think he expected that girl to turn up again as a woman who calls him 'Master Oakenshield' and uses biting humor and sarcasm as a shield to hide behind."

"That girl had to grow up," Kelda said with a shrug of her shoulders. "So did, I suppose, the Thorin who smiled as enthusiastically as Kili and played just as hard as he fought, who was always getting us out of the trouble I got us into. Neither of us are exactly who we once were. In reality, after all this time, we may as well be perfect strangers."

"I wouldn't be so certain of that, were I you," Balin suggested. "Can you truly be sure that he no longer smiles, simply because you have not seen him do so yet in the few hours you've been in his company? How can you know whether or not he still plays as hard as he fights without giving him the opportunity to do either? Do not be so quick to dismiss the relationship you once had; I've seen them survive worse."

_The elder dwarf gives wise advice, little one, _Sitheiyra said as she rested her head on the back of the seat. _I would heed it._

_It's not that simple._

_It is that simple, you are just frightfully pig-headed._

"I guess only time will tell what lies ahead," Kelda said out loud, taking a gulp of her tea before giving Balin a side-eyed look. "And I do not hide behind my sarcasm; I use it to beat people into submission. Like a club."

"Mmm, indeed. How very dwarvish of you," Balin said impishly. Kelda gave a loud, full throated laugh at that comment, one that undoubtedly attracted attention from everyone else in the vicinity. She couldn't have cared less, of course; being loud and obnoxious was one of many non-skyling-like behaviors she retained that she had no intention of curbing.

"Oh, you have no idea how often I hear _that_, though it's usually not a compliment, is generally accompanied by scowls and followed up by long lectures about how I make life unnecessarily difficult for everyone around me. As if having fun makes others' lives difficult," Kelda scoffed. Balin chuckled amicably, causing the skyling to grin. "Thank you for the company, and for your counsel. I can see why Thorin has always valued your opinion so."

"He values yours too, whether you wish to believe it or not. Your willingness to join us on this journey has not gone unnoticed, Kelda, and is more appreciated then you can ever know. Don't let him make you think otherwise."

"Eh, we'll see how long that appreciative attitude lasts after I start lighting things on fire for fun," Kelda straight-faced, taking another gulp of tea. A person who didn't know her well might not have been able to tell that she was joking, but Balin just gave her a knowing look. Having finished his tea, the elder dwarf got up to join some of the other dwarves who had entered the room. Many of them had begun to smoke pipes. It was an incredibly common practice among dwarves and Kelda found it a strangely comforting scent, one that she had missed; smoking a pipe was a very rare thing among the Sky-Folk. The pipe-smoke danced eerily in the firelight and a heavy mood feel over the room as the rest of the dwarves entered, including Thorin, who leaned himself against the fireplace to look down into the flames.

As if all overcome by the same urge the dwarves began to hum a tune, one Kelda was unfamiliar with. The skyling folded her legs up underneath of her, curling both of her hands around her tea cup, and Sitheiyra lifted her head from the top of the chair to gaze upon the humming dwarves. Kelda's eyes went to Thorin as he began to sing, his voice deep and haunted.

_"Far over the misty mountains cold_

_To dungeons deep and caverns old_

_We must away ere break of day_

_To find our long forgotten gold"_

The other dwarves lifted their voices to join him then, and as they did Kelda could do nothing but stare, enraptured by their song and caught in the webs of her own memories.

_"The pines were roaring on the height_

_The winds were moaning in the night_

_The fire was red, it flaming spread_

_The trees like torches blazed with light."_

She could see it, she remembered it like it had happened only moments before and as the room once again became quiet she let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. She could feel the heat of the flames, hear the people screaming and hear the thundering roar of the calamity. She could feel her own terror. Not so much of the dragon, that overbearing presence that filled the halls with heat and noise and death. It was the fear of losing her light, her destined companion for life, losing him to the inferno.

Sitheiyra made a loud chirp, one that seemed to jolt everyone from their secret thoughts and return them to the present, to where they were gathered in the living room of Bilbo Baggins. Kelda glanced over her shoulder at the Muzmulomil, who looked at her with one big green eye, glanced past her, and then closed her eyes to doze once more.

_He wasn't lost that day._

_He was to me. He may have survived, but I lost him anyway._

_So you thought. You believed him lost to time, or distance or death, but you have been proven wrong. The gods do not often give such second chances, little one. You would be wise not to squander it._

Kelda sighed, placing her empty cup on the table before stretching herself out across the chair and watching the others with half-lidded, tired eyes. She found she was far more tired than she had initially thought.

_Perhaps, you're right_, she thought back to Sitheiyra. The pair of them fell quiet then, closing their eyes and dozing in the glow from the fireplace, the familiar sounds and smells of dwarves submerging them in old memories.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer**:** All of The Hobbit characters, places and so forth belong to their illustrious creator. Which isn't me. Kelda, Sitheiyra and the Sky Folk are mine.**

I apologize for the short chapter; life has been getting in the way. Let me know what you think, and thank you for reading!

* * *

Kelda woke with a start, her brother's name on her lips. Her scarred back was burning with phantom pain as she bolted upright. Her hand rested over her racing heart as she frantically looked around, searching for the massive beast swimming in his sea of gold. Terror gripped her when she heard a sound nearby her, but her fear addled mind was unable to make sense of it. All she knew was that she had to get out; she had to get out immediately.

_The window_, a strange male voice reminded her helpfully. Normally she would have questioned where this advice had come from but instead Kelda immediately scrambled up and pulled herself out of the window, landing on the ground with an ungraceful _thud_. Sitheiyra was at her side in an instant, concern radiating off of her as the skyling tried to get up only to fall against the gryphon's side weakly, gasping for breath.

_Little one,_ the gryphon crooned, moving to encircle the panicked skyling protectively._ Hush, it was but a memory, a dream. We are not in the mountain, the brute Smaug is not here, the calamity happened long ago._

"But Shalix-"

_We are in the hobbit's shire, with Thorin Oakenshield's Company of dwarves,_ Sitheiyra interrupted with calm assurance. _They remain asleep within the dwelling of the hobbit Bilbo Baggins. We will be joining them on their quest. You remember, yes? Erebor fell over a century ago. We are safe here._

"A century…" Kelda repeated breathlessly, her brow furrowing. It was another moment before she really realized where she was, and when she was. There was no fire, no screaming, no noxious scent of burning flesh and fear. Instead there was the smell of early morning dew, the sound of birds greeting the dawn, the first pale rays of light coming up over the horizon.

A sharp snore and the sound of muffled movement made her snap her gaze to open window above her. Slowly she stood, extracting herself from the Muzmulomil's warm grip as she leaned forward to peer through the window and into the house. There were dwarves sprawled across the floor, some not even seeming to have prepared a place to sleep, but instead having just slept wherever they had fallen the night before. She wasn't quite able to make out who was who in the dim room, but that didn't really matter. It was enough to confirm that what Sitheiyra had said was true. Kelda sighed, leaning against the grassy hill that held the hobbit's home and letting her frantic heart slowly return to its natural rhythm.

A night terror and a panic attack one after the other; considering that she normally screamed like she was being butchered alive when she had night terrors, Kelda was surprised the dwarves were still sleeping. Maybe she hadn't screamed during this particular incident. All the better for her, she had no wish for them to see her in her current state. Her panic attacks were not something she was proud of and, despite the fact that they didn't happen often, she did her best to hide it when they did. The last thing she needed was another reason for people to find her unworthy.

"I need to take a walk," Kelda finally said after a short moment, pushing herself off of the hillside and dusting herself off. She'd fallen into Bilbo's garden when she'd gone out the window and her hands and knees were covered in soil. "Maybe down to the farmer's market, get some fruit for the road. Most farmers are up and busy by now, I think."

_I think you have time. They were awake for several hours after us, I believe. I don't think they'll be rising for another hour or so, if I recall the typical behavior of dwarves correctly._

"Nothing about this is typical, but you're probably right. You stay here, so nobody thinks I've gone and skipped out on them. I'll be back soon."

_As you wish. I shall keep you informed of any developments._

"Thanks kindly, Sith," Kelda said as she headed down the path that led away from the hobbit's house. She paused for a moment, though, and turned back to the gryphon, which looked at her questioningly. "Sitheiyra…were you the one who reminded me about the window?"

_I was awakened by your tumbling out of the window,_ Sitheiyra answered, tilting her head and blinking her large eyes. _Perhaps it was one of the dwarves?_

"Maybe…" Kelda pondered that momentarily, before shrugging. It was hardly a big issue; if it hadn't been one of the dwarves then no doubt it had just been a figment of her terrified mind. "It's not a big deal. Alright, I'll see you soon."

Kelda gave the gryphon a wave before disappearing into the sloping green hills of the hobbits' shire.

* * *

She'd been right about the farmers rising early; they'd already had their stands up and running by the time Kelda had arrived there. The sweet smell of fruit very nearly made her euphoric as she passed the different carts. Sky-Folk were known for having a vicious sweet-tooth and Kelda specifically loved fruit. She'd already bought apples, pears, and peaches and was currently torn between blueberries, or plums. More than likely she'd end up with both. In the back of her mind she thought that maybe she should grab something _other_ than fruit, like some vegetables, but at the moment the blueberries were calling her name.

Kelda was bitterly disappointed that she hadn't found any strawberries yet, despite having covered most of the market. She was addicted to strawberries; if they were the only food left in all the realms she would have been perfectly okay with it. Sky-Folk adored anything sweet, but there was always one thing they might very well kill somebody for and for Kelda that was a strawberry.

_You haven't had a strawberry in months and yet I have not seen you kill anyone over it,_ Kelda heard Sitheiyra say. It was the first she had heard from the gryphon in nearly an hour.

_Nobody's given me a reason to,_ the skyling replied as she put her purchased blueberries in the saddlebag she carried. _Doesn't mean I won't. What's the news on the dwarves? Have any risen from the dead yet?_

_ Most of them have, actually._

_ Perhaps I should head back then._

_ I wouldn't worry about it; they cannot exactly leave without their leader and he seems to have slipped away somewhere._

_ Slipped away?_ Kelda questioned, immediately growing suspicious. _And you didn't notice? Something makes me highly doubt that, Sitheiyra._

_ Hm, very well, you've caught me. He wished to know where you had gone off to, so I told him. He went to gather you perhaps twenty or so minutes ago. I'm guessing he has yet to find you, which is odd. The market is not that far from here._

_ You did hear him say that he got lost __**twice**__ on his way to us last night, did you not?_ Kelda said with a sigh, shouldering the saddlebag and turning to search the area. _I guess I'll have to go and find him now. And since when did you start talking to him?_

_ You assume I never have before._ The gryphon said in answer; Kelda was momentarily aware of Sitheiyra stretching her wings out, the refreshing feeling of moving tight muscles ghosting through her before she distanced herself from the Muzmulomil's mind. _We used to speak often before the calamity; he has a very open mind, easy to read. You should tell him that you are glad to see him again. I believe it would ease his mind and make things easier for all involved._

_ Now you're the one assuming,_ Kelda said flatly as she made her way through the market, her sharp eyes scanning for Thorin's familiar form. She could hear Sitheiyra huff, entirely unconvinced by the skyling's act.

_You may be able to lie to everyone else, Kelda, Queen of Skies, but you cannot lie to me. You have missed him dearly. He deserves to know it._

_ Maybe_, Kelda sighed as she turned a quick corner. She was so preoccupied by the conversation and her search for Thorin that she didn't notice someone standing there until she walked right into them, hitting them so hard that she fell back into the dirt.

"Thatûr ra bin'aban! I am so sorry, I wasn't watching where I was going," Kelda exclaimed. It wasn't until she looked up and found Thorin looking down at her that she became truly mortified, though. Of course it had to have been Thorin Oakenshield she'd barreled into. Of course it did. The gods must have been laughing, pleased by their cruel joke. Sitheiyra certainly was and it wasn't helping Kelda's mood in the slightest to hear the gryphon cackling at her in the back of her head.

"You seem to be in a hurry to get someplace," Thorin said as he offered his hand. Kelda took his hand and allowed him to help her up, making a sound of protest when he took her saddlebag and shouldered it himself. She didn't need him to be chivalrous, but he obviously intended to be regardless so she let the matter go.

"I was-" _Looking for him. _"Heading back up to the hobbit hole," Kelda said, ignoring Sitheiyra's insertion.

_You are being ridiculous._ The gryphon growled, frustrated with Kelda's stubbornness. Kelda continued to ignore her as she looked at Thorin out of the corner of her eye. She'd nearly forgotten how tall he was until she found herself walking next to him and she suddenly felt even smaller than normal; considering she was only about four and a half feet tall that was saying something. By her estimation Thorin had to be a few inches over five feet tall, which was massive by dwarf standards. Kelda chanced another covert glance at him, admiring his proud profile and feeling a wave of comfort at its familiarity. She did her best to ignore that, too, an attempt at which Sitheiyra scoffed in annoyance.

"What exactly are you doing here, if I may ask? Shouldn't you be with the rest of your company, getting them up and moving so we can leave this morning?"

"We couldn't leave with a member of the company missing." Thorin answered, looking pointedly at the skyling beside him. "Especially when that member is in such a state that she throws herself out of the window. Care to explain that?"

"No." Kelda answered sharply. She cursed the gods for allowing the dwarf to see her in that condition, and cursed him for not minding his own business.

_He is concerned._

_Well, he can take his concern and shove it down his own throat._

_ He could have brought it up in front of everyone else, yet instead he chose to do it now when it is just the two of you. He has the right to ask, little one. He knows not whether this could endanger the whole of the company. Even so, he asks because he cares. I believe you should be honest with him._

Kelda sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of her nose between her fingers, knowing that Sitheiyra was right and being highly annoyed by that fact. Thorin did have the right to ask. She just didn't want to tell; she had no idea what he would think of her if she did tell him.

"It-it's something that has developed since Erebor," Kelda finally said, refusing to look at Thorin as she did. "Certain events can trigger…well, what you witnessed. I forget myself. Usually it's a memory or a dream that brings it…or a combination of both, in this case…but it doesn't happen often and I can assure you I will not be a problem."

"Hm," was all he said in response, keeping quiet otherwise. Kelda felt her chest tighten, but managed not to show her anxiety on her face as the two of them walked on in silence. It wasn't until they could see the rest of the company saddling their ponies in the distance that Thorin stopped, putting out his arm to stop her as well. Kelda stiffened, preparing herself for the inevitable rejection that always seemed to come to her.

"Are you well enough now?" Thorin asked, turning to face her. Kelda blinked, surprised by his calm acceptance of her situation and his seeming concern for her well being. Of course, she thought, he could have asked simply to assess whether or not she'd slow them down. That was the more logical conclusion.

"I am. Yes."

"Good. We need to get moving," he said before handing her saddlebag back to her. He turned and walked away without another word, going down the hill to join the others and leaving Kelda to follow along after him. After a brief moment of staring after the dwarf stupidly, Kelda also made her way down to where Sitheiyra was sitting waiting for her. The gryphon had a smug expression on her face.

_You worry too much._

_Oh, leave it Sitheiyra._

* * *

Khuzdul translations:

Thatûr ra bin'aban- Stars and stones


	5. Chapter 5

**_Disclaimer: The Hobbit and its various peoples and places are not of my creation, nor do I own them. That honor goes to their lovely creators._**

* * *

_I have come to the conclusion that the young ones do not realize we can hear them from here and that it is rude to stare. Who taught them manners? Surely not their uncle._

_It probably was their uncle, Sith. What are you going on about anyway?_ Kelda thought back to the gryphon, absentmindedly fiddling with the pendant hanging around her neck as they traveled along the road. She was far more concerned with whether or not she wanted to dig into her pack and grab an apple to snack on than what the dwarves were doing.

Finally deciding that she did indeed want that apple, Kelda reached down with one hand and began to search around in one of her saddle-bags. She rifled around a moment and then smiled as she found one. Plucking it from the bag she immediately proceeded to take a large bite, sighing in satisfaction at its fresh sweetness.

_Have you not been paying attention? They are discussing different scenarios about how you might have received your scars._

Kelda sighed, munching on her apple as she began actually tuning into the conversations going on around her. Most of the Company was either traveling in relative silence, speaking of the journey ahead of them or about matters entirely unrelated. She was, however, able to make out a debate going on between Fili, Kili and Ori as to how she might have been burned; at that moment Ori was tossing around the idea that she might have been dropped on a hot surface as a babe, while Fili and Kili were insisting that is had been Smaug who had done it; it had to be the truth, because their uncle had told them so. The skyling flexed her wings, tuning the three right back out as she tossed the finished apple-core aside. She was used to the stares and the whispers and over the years had become a master at pretending it didn't bother her.

_Ignore them, Sith, they just don't know any better. Come, would you rather travel closer to the front of the line? I'm certain they won't mind. Besides, I promised Gandalf an apple before we left._

_I would, in fact, _Sitheiyra answered, quickening her pace so as to catch up to the wizard further along the road. Kelda once again reached into her saddle-bag in search of another apple, but instead found something else. She frowned slightly before pulling up a sack that she didn't remember having put in there. Curious, she pulled it open and as she looked in her eyes widened. Reaching into the sack, she pulled out a large red strawberry.

_Well, I wonder where those could have come from,_ Sitheiyra said knowingly as Kelda breathed in the strawberry's intoxicating scent. The skyling took a bite, sighing wistfully before turning her gaze to Thorin at the front of the line.

_He must have slipped them in when he had the bag,_ she thought, closing her eyes as she bit off the rest of the fruit. _Mmmmmm…sneaky bastard._

_Do you still 'intend to be offended for quite some time'? Or have I been proven right, once again, in saying that you'll now forgive him on the spot?_

_Shut up, gryphon._

Kelda ignored the Muzmulomil's laughter in her thoughts, reaching in the saddlebag for an apple as they finally came up alongside Gandalf's horse. The skyling smiled cheerfully when the wizard looked over at her and she stretched out her arm to offer him the deep red apple she held in her hand, her precious strawberries placed carefully in her lap.

"I recall promising you one of my apples."

"Ah, yes. Indeed you did," the wizard answered, accepting the offered fruit from Kelda's hand. "Thank you very much, Kelda."

"Please tell me you have more in that bottomless bag than fruit," Dwalin said, eyeing her. "You Sky-Folk like pastries; surely you have honey cakes or some such thing?"

"Oh, come now Dwalin, are you telling me you wouldn't have an apple if I offered one to you?" Kelda replied playfully, pulling an apple from the saddle-bag and waving it in front of him. The dwarf made a face.

"Not if I had any choice."

"Come on, be reasonable. I bought a whole bunch for everyone!"

"It's a long journey; will they not go bad if not eaten in the next few days?"

"Oh, I doubt that," Balin said from where he'd been listening a few feet ahead of them, his pony being second in line behind Thorin's. "Skylings are well known for their enchanted items. While everyone knows of the elves' enchanted weapons, the Sky Folk will enchant just about anything. Often to greater effect." Balin turned slightly in his saddle to look at Kelda. "What have you got on your packs, lass?"

"Well, they all have space enchantments. Meaning they're far larger on the inside than they appear. I can carry twice the amount in each than I could in an ordinary bag," Kelda explained. She pointed a finger to the bag she'd been pulling the fruit out of. "This one in particular also has an enchantment of stasis on it. Basically freezes time within the bag. No matter how long an item is in there, it will be as fresh when you take it out as it was when you placed it in. It's a difficult enchantment, though, so I've only got the one."

"I thought you said you cannot do that kind of magic," Oin said, looking over at Kelda suspiciously. "Have you been feeding us lies skyling?"

"Lies? No, of course not! What I said before is true; I am a War-Mage like my father before me. Enchantments are not my specialty, but my cousin Amva and my uncle Draxis both are Enchanters. They've done my enchantments for me," Kelda said, but seeing the older dwarf continue to give her the eye, she sighed dramatically. "Lopti's breath, I forgot how damn suspicious you dwarves can be. I'm not lying; ask Master Oakenshield, he'll vouch for me. Right?"

"Leave her be, Oin, she speaks the truth," Thorin ordered from the front of the pony-train without turning around, or even looking over his shoulder. It was the first thing he'd said since they'd left the shire. Kelda shifted her weight slightly in the saddle; it had also been the first thing she'd said to him since their conversation earlier that day.

_No one else in the company calls him 'Master Oakenshield', in case you have not noticed._

_Yes, well, they've all known him for the past one hundred and seventy one years. I have not. So if you don't mind I'll try to treat him with the respect due him as King Under the Mountain, Sitheiyra._

_That means very little, in the scheme of things. I would think that his remembering your terrible love for strawberries would have put you past this odd notion of formality. If you would simply treat him like you used to everything would fall back into place._

_It's not that simple, Sith._

_It is, and I shall prove it, _Sitheiyra said, before suddenly bounding forward to get herself side-by-side with the dwarf prince's pony. Kelda yelped at the gryphon's sharp motion, grabbing the saddle-horn to keep herself from getting flung forward. The coppery, sunset colored plumage on her head stood on end, much like a startled cockatoo, and her wings puffed out in alarm.

"Imhêr kethâm, Sitheiyra!" Kelda snapped, glowering sharply at Sitheiyra until she felt a steadying hand on her arm. She turned her head to find Thorin leaning over the gap between the pony and the gryphon, his strong fingers wrapped around her upper arm as he helped her straighten in the saddle. He watched her with an expression of warm amusement, a look she was still apparently fond of if the quickening of her heart was any indication. Kelda smoothed her feathers down with one hand, releasing a breathy laugh. As her lips curved up in a smile, she pulled one of the strawberries out of the bag in her lap and offered it to him.

"Berry?"

Thorin glanced at the strawberry briefly and then looked back at her, studying her for a moment before taking the fruit from her hand without a word. A bright smile gracing her features, Kelda turned around in the saddle and pointed at Dwalin, her pendant catching the light and Thorin's attention as she did.

"If fruit is good enough for Thorin Oakenshield, then it is good enough for you!"

"Ah, don't get your hopes up, lass, he's only taking it because he likes you," Dwalin teased.

"Well, of course he does!" Kelda said with over-exaggerated confidence, once again using her quick humor as a shield against all possible invading emotions. "Without me here he'd only be stuck with you lot, and who ever would want that?"

"Hey, I'll have you know that we're a group of strong, handsome, upstanding dwarves! Anyone with the pleasure of our company is doing quite well, I'd say." Fili responded, the rest of the company shouting their various agreements with his statement. Kelda gave a slight shrug of her shoulders.

"Yeah, you're alright for dwarves, I'll give you that. Still, you're not quite on my level of timeless, stunning beauty."

"Stunning beauty? Eh, I prefer my women with some hair on their heads and not chicken feathers," Nori said in response to the skyling's joke, though his tone was a clear giveaway that he was just teasing, too. Kelda was about to shoot a snarky comment back at the red-headed dwarf when she was cut off by an interruption that she had not been anticipating.

"Her beauty isn't up for debate," Thorin said gruffly. His voice grew quieter halfway through the statement as if the response had been a knee-jerk reaction and when he'd thought about what he was saying he'd been embarrassed by his own words. As if trying to make it look less like he'd just admitted something of his personal thoughts, he added, "The Lady Mage is a high-born woman, a Queen, and you must treat her with respect."

Kelda had been taken entirely by surprise by his abrupt remark and, for the first time in a long while, found herself unable to come up with any sort of response. She opened her mouth to speak, only to close it again and just look at Thorin as her skin began to flush red. The dwarf prince continued to stare straight ahead down the path as if nothing had occurred and as the rest of the company muttered to one another, no doubt about their leader's odd behavior, Kelda found herself looking off into the trees, trying to ignore the awkward silence. As she looked at the surrounding forest she remembered how easy it had been before. The contract had made it simple; she and Thorin would join together to strengthen the alliance between their peoples. Arranged, political marriages didn't always contain love, friendship or even civility, but they had been lucky and for the next nine years he had been a daily part of her life, up until Smaug had taken it all away, of course.

Something in the forest caught the skyling's eye, then, pulling her from her thoughts and making her peer more carefully between the thick old trees. She could have sworn she'd seen a flash of red wings within the foliage, red like the burning evening sun. She couldn't see anything there anymore, though, regardless of how she searched. Kelda frowned slightly and was about to tell Sitheiyra to stray from the path so she might sate her curiosity, but was interrupted by a softly spoken statement from the dwarf riding beside her.

"You kept it."

"What?" Kelda asked distractedly, looking through the trees once more before turning her attention back over to the dwarf prince. Thorin glanced at the pendant around Kelda's neck briefly before his ocean blue gaze rose from it and rested on her face.

"You've kept it," he repeated quietly as he searched her face, though she wasn't sure what he could be looking for. All she knew was that his expression was making her heart pound in her chest, like it might simply burst out of its own accord. The mysterious flash of feathers in the forest was completely forgotten as she looked back at him and tried to formulate something to say in return.

"I-"

"Wait! Wait!"

Kelda blinked at the interrupting voice, twisting around to look behind. The entire party mimicked her, everyone stopping their mounts on the path as they all peered in the direction they had come. There was a hobbit running down the road after them.

"Well now," Kelda said as she watched Bilbo run up to Balin, the contract fluttering about in his hand as he went. "It seems Gandalf was right."

_I suppose it's a good thing you refuse to bet against a wizard,_ Sitheiyra said with cool amusement as Bilbo reached up to hand the contract to Balin.

"I signed it!" The Halfling exclaimed, watching as Balin took the contract and, producing an eyeglass from his pocket, inspected it closely. After a short moment, the elder dwarf looked up and smiled at Bilbo.

"Everything appears to be in order. Welcome, Master Baggins, to the company of Thorin Oakenshield."

The dwarves began to shout and cheer excitedly, enthusiastic about their new companion despite the fact that he was a gentle little Halfling, while Thorin looked Bilbo over with a shaded gaze; he wasn't impressed. Kelda wasn't exactly filled with enthusiasm, either, knowing that she was going to end up feeling like she had to babysit the Hobbit. She wouldn't be able to keep from throwing herself in front of any danger he might fall into; it was in her nature to try to take care of those weaker than herself, regardless of possible injury to her own person. It was a trait she'd gained while growing up trying to protect her little sister and cousin.

"Give him a pony," Thorin said, only barely managing to cover his irritation. As the group once again began moving, and the Hobbit could be heard going on about not needing a pony and going on walking holidays, Kelda sighed lightly and ran her hand over Sitheiyra's smooth black feathers.

"Well, it could be worse," she said with a mischievous little grin. "He could be an _annoying_ Hobbit burglar."

The skyling received a flat, entirely un-amused look from the dwarf prince beside her and her smirk only grew as the two of them fell into comfortable silence. The wizard with them fell back in line, and Kelda glanced behind her again. Bilbo had been placed on a pony and seemed wholly miserable about it. Kelda was internally grateful that the Hobbit had shown up when he had; it had distracted Thorin enough to put off the conversation about the pendant, at least momentarily. She very much doubted he'd forget about it entirely, but at least she had some time to think about what she'd say.

_You could always tell the truth._

_Sitheiyra, please_, Kelda answered, exasperated. _Don't start._

_You are making this much more difficult than it has to be,_ the gryphon huffed. _Being with him was natural and easy, up until you actually thought about it._

_Sith, it's-_

_It's not that simple? Yes, so you keep on saying._

"Come on, Nori," Kelda heard Oin say, pulling her attention away from Sitheiyra. "Pay up. Go on."

Nori tossed a pouch of coins over to Oin and soon enough others were being tossed through the air, passing from one dwarf to another. Bilbo looked about in confusion as the dwarves passed the pouches, laughing and talking among themselves as they did.

"What's that about?"

"Oh, they took wagers on whether or not you'd turn up," Gandalf answered. "Most of them bet that you wouldn't."

"What did you think?" Bilbo asked, and just as he finished speaking a bag of coins flew through the air to land in the wizard's awaiting hand.

"My dear fellow," Gandalf said good-naturedly as he put the pouch in his bag. "I never doubted you for a second."

As Kelda reached out to snatch the coin pouch tossed to her by Gloin out of the air, she turned to the hobbit and smiled cheerfully.

"If there's only one thing you take away from this quest, Master Baggins, let it be this; never bet against a wizard. If you do you'll always lose." She said as she placed the coins in the pouch on her belt.

"That seems like sound advice," Bilbo answered, eyeing Sitheiyra nervously as he did. Kelda sighed and shook her head; she supposed the Muzmulomil could be a bit intimidating, but this fear was something she was going to have to nip in the bud.

"You need not look so concerned, dear Burglar. Unless you're a prey animal or an enemy, you have nothing to fear from my darling Sitheiyra. She does not eat sentient beings…unless they're being needlessly annoying, of course. Then she might gnaw on them a bit."

_Not on him. He's barely a mouthful,_ the gryphon commented idly, turning to look at the hobbit and humming in amusement at the way he flinched back.

"Forgive me if I find a large, wild beast a point of concern," the hobbit answered dubiously. "In fact, I'm a bit surprised the others aren't more troubled by it. Isn't it dangerous?"

"She. Not it," Kelda correctly sharply before continuing. "And Sith isn't a dumb beast, Master Baggins. Gryphons are highly intelligent beings and are capable of understanding and speaking many different languages, though they only speak telepathically, mind to mind, and are very selective about who they converse with. They are native to the same land my people originally came from several ages ago, far north past the Grey Mountains. Sitheiyra here is what is known as a Muzmulomil in the dwarf tongue, or Night Beast. They're the largest and rarest of the gryphon species and are named for, obviously, their dark coloring and the fact that they're nearly silent in flight. They're also known to be called Banshees, too."

"Banshees? Isn't that a legendary spirit that screams in the night, predicting the death of the person who hears it?"

"Exactly that, yes."

"What does that have to do with a gryphon?" Bilbo asked curiously.

"Well, different types of gryphons have different, unique special abilities," Kelda explained. "Muzmulomil can produce a scream so powerful that it can stun or, indeed, kill their intended target. Some have even been known to have damaged structures with the force of their shriek. Thus, Banshee."

"That…eh, that sounds-" Kelda watched Bilbo screw his face up for a brief moment before sneezing loudly, turning his head just in time to avoid sneezing in the Skyling's face. "That sounds formidable. Oh, sorry. All this horse hair, I'm having a reaction."

Bilbo started searching through his pockets, his expression becoming increasingly distraught as he couldn't find what he was looking for. After a moment he looked up, anxiety crossing over his face.

"No, no, wait, wait, stop! Stop! We have to turn around," he shouted. The entire company came to a halt, the dwarves objecting loudly, each asking in their own way what the problem was. Why the hold up? Kelda glanced at the leader of the group, able to recognize Thorin's obvious annoyance without seeing his face; it was in the stiffness of his shoulders and the way his head tilted back slightly as if he silently questioned the gods. The Skyling fidgeted in the saddle, pinching her lips together in a thin line to keep herself from laughing. She knew she'd earn herself a glare if he heard her.

"What on earth is the matter?" Gandalf asked, looking over at the Hobbit.

"I forgot my handkerchief."

"By the Sky and the Stone," Kelda sighed quietly. "_Really_?"

_He'll be the death of us all, worrying over a handkerchief,_ Sitheiyra stated darkly. _Has the wizard lost his mind entirely?_

_He's a wizard, Sith. I think it comes with the territory._

"Here! Use this." Bofur said as he tossed a dirty strip of cloth torn from his clothing to the Hobbit. Bilbo, upon catching it, looked at it in sheer disgust, causing the others to all to share a laugh at his expense.

"Move on," Thorin called, and the group spurred their mounts to motion again, continuing their journey.

_I tire of this Halfling, and all this walking,_ Sitheiyra complained, eyeing Bilbo coolly before shifting her wings along her back. _We are far enough from the Shire to avoid causing panic. Let us take wing._

_And leave all our friends here on the ground?_

_They are certainly welcome to join us, if they can to sprout their own wings,_ the gryphon answered, shaking her wings out a bit as she prepared to take flight. Kelda knew Sitheiyra was going to, whether she agreed or not. _Make an excuse, if it will make you feel better, but do so quickly. I wish to return to the sky._

"Sitheiyra and I are going to scout ahead," Kelda said, not to anyone in particular but loud enough that any one of the group could hear. It was a statement of fact; she was hardly asking permission. She was a Skyling and even a crippled one didn't need the approval of any poor wingless soul to enter her own domain.

"Do not stray far, Lady Mage," Thorin ordered, turning to look at Kelda and her gryphon. "Stay within sight of the company."

"Yes mother," Kelda answered in jest as they trotted past him. This earned her an unimpressed scowl, one she answered with a brilliant smile. "You shouldn't frown so much; your face might get stuck that way."

If Thorin was going to make any sort of response, he didn't get the opportunity as Sitheiyra released an excited screech, causing the dwarves' ponies to shy away in fright. Unraveling her great wings, she pumped them with all her might, launching herself and Kelda into the clear sky.

* * *

Khuzdul Translations:

Imhêr kethâm- Burning bells


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: The Hobbit and its places and people belong to its creators. Kelda, Sitheiyra and the Skyfolk belong to me.**

* * *

That was how they remained for days, the company on the ground while Kelda and Sitheiyra soared in the skies above them. The skyling and her gryphon came down only to report obstacles or to join the others in camp for the night. They traveled without incident, crossing over rolling emerald hills, where the flying pair could see for miles around as they circled overhead. The air was warm, the sky was clear and the clouds were so high that they seemed impossible to reach, like the wisps of forgotten dreams. They flew their highest, higher than any bird, going up until they felt the air turn cold. Kelda would find herself wondering if the others below could see them when they ascended that high and if they couldn't, did they worry? Did they even notice? Or did they never bother to even look up, to search for the black form of the Muzmulomil in the sky?

_You say them. You mean him._ Sitheiyra would say when the thought crossed Kelda's mind. She never bothered to answer. It's not as if she could deny it; the gryphon knew her every thought.

Sitheiyra would dive then, once she reached the height of her climb. She would fold her wings and fall like a rock as Kelda held on. The skyling would lean forward to become more streamline, to the point that they may as well have been one single being, instead of two. They could hear nothing but the screaming of the wind in their ears, a sound that would be unnerving to most but was natural and comforting to them. Colors would blend and the world spun and pure joy would fill their chests as the ground grew ever closer, a spinning mixture of browns and greens.

It was a game, to see how close to the ground they could get before Sitheiyra would shift her tail-feathers, change their direction and throw her wings open, pulling up sharply so they would once again fly parallel with the ground. Kelda would hold out her hand and let the tops of the tall grass drag against her fingers as they passed. Sometimes she would reach out and snatch Gandalf's hat from his head as they flew so closely over the company that Sitheiyra could have slapped them with the tips of her wings or her paws if she wasn't careful. Kelda would laugh in delight at the wizard's expression, lightly dropping the large hat back on his head the next time they passed over. Other times she would drop it on somebody else's head, 'accidentally'. While most of the company would laugh and shout, trying to cajole Sitheiyra into attempting to snatch one of them up instead of a little hat, Thorin more often than not would glower at the gryphon and the skyling, ordering them to stop fooling around and being reckless. Kelda took to affectionately calling him 'Master Killjoy Oakenshield' and showering him in flower petals and 'borrowed' hats from above as a result.

The farther east they traveled, the more forested and rocky the terrain became until finally Thorin insisted on Kelda and Sitheiyra remaining with the rest of them on the ground. He wanted to keep the company together, he said, and could not risk losing sight of them through the trees. Kelda argued at first, as she was known to do; she and Sitheiyra were more useful scouting in the air. She was not a child any longer, she reminded the surly royal dwarf, and she did not need his constant protection. She and her gryphon were more than capable of protecting themselves. This, of course, only caused Thorin to become irritated and stubborn, assuring Kelda that what he'd said was _not_ a suggestion.

_He worries_, Sitheiyra said. Kelda rolled her eyes, thinking Thorin was being ridiculous and telling him as much, but still she relented and they once again began traveling with the others on the ground, though for a while after their argument the skyling mage refused to speak to Thorin in any way. In truth, though, neither skyling nor gryphon minded traveling with the rest of the group. They enjoyed the company of the dwarves and the wizard. Even Bilbo Baggins, in his ever constant politeness, began to grow on them. His curiosity seemed endless and as they went along, when she wasn't bullshitting with Fili and Kili, or conversing with various dwarves, Kelda willingly fielded the hobbit's multitude of questions.

"Kelda, do all of the Sky Folk have wings like yours?" Bilbo asked one night as he sat in camp watching the skyling exercise her wings, as she did every night and morning. Kelda flapped her wings hard, sending up a light cloud of dust from the rocky outcropping they camped on.

"Indeed. There wouldn't be much logic in calling us Sky Folk otherwise," she answered without looking at him. She frowned as she shook her wings out briefly before once again beating them against the air, putting every ounce of her strength and concentration into the action in an attempt to get herself off of the ground. All she got for her effort was a face full of dust, aching muscles and burning frustration.

"Do Sky Folk use their wings to fly?"

"No. We use them to swim. Like fish." The skyling replied with acerbic sarcasm, her frustration with herself coming out in her answer to Bilbo. What kind of question was that, anyway? What else would one use wings for? The hobbit rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment.

"I'm sorry, you're right. That's a rather silly question, isn't it? It's just…I've never seen you fly. Not without Sitheiyra, at least."

Kelda's first instinct was to snap at the halfling, to say something sharp and nasty so he would stop asking questions. She bit her tongue, though, and instead remained silent, staring out at the last remaining colors that graced the sky from the setting sun.

"You can't fly, can you?" She heard Fili say and quite suddenly she was excruciatingly aware of the eyes of nearly everyone in the camp on her. The skyling wasn't sure why it bothered her so much there amongst the dwarves. In most cases she was able to answer questions about her disability easily, without emotion. Perhaps it was the fact that the opinions of the company mattered to her that made it so much more difficult.

"No." She finally managed to say, feeling like she was choking on the word.

"Why not?" Ori asked.

"That's not your business," she heard Dori reply sharply in response to the youngest dwarf's question. Kelda shook her head and turned to look at the dwarves with a casual smile and a shrug of her shoulders, the expression looking quite natural despite the fact that it was forced.

"No, it's alright. It's not as if I haven't had to answer the question before-"

"It's the damage you took from dragon fire when Smaug attacked Erebor, isn't it?" Kili asked. "That's why you can't fly, right?"

"You were there?" Bilbo said, looking at Kelda in surprise.

"I-"

"Aye, she was there," Nori said before Kelda could get a word out. "She grew up in the mountain, was there when it fell."

"You saw the dragon?" Bilbo asked curiously. Kelda sighed and opened her mouth to speak but was once again cut off before she could utter a sound.

"Oh, she didn't just see the dragon. She survived his flame." Bofur said, leaning forward a bit. "Luck was with her that day, shielded her from doom."

"I've heard it was the Sky Folk's beloved Sky God himself, took pity and paused in his mischief to beat back the dragon's fire so she might survive."

"That's not what I heard!"

At this chaos erupted, all the dwarves starting to talk over one another as they each tried to set the record straight with their own version of events. The skyling balked, the conversation suddenly having taken a turn for the worst. She saw Thorin pause in his separate conversation with Gandalf and turn his head slightly to look over his shoulder at them, assessing the situation.

"That's enough," Thorin said, his voice cutting clearly through the noise and causing everyone to fall immediately quiet. "You'll attract every predator within ten miles with that racket. Bombur, finish the food, we need to eat."

The company now cowed and quiet, Kelda took the opportunity to slink away to where Sitheiyra lay on the other side of the camp. The gryphon nuzzled the skyling affectionately, making a purr of reassurance. Kelda just sat down, resting her face in her hands and hoping that maybe if she just sat there quietly she'd disappear.

Kelda stayed like that for a while, until a whistle from Sitheiyra and the sound of approaching footsteps alerted her to another presence. She glanced up in time to see Bilbo sit down by her, his face apprehensive.

"Can I…can I ask what actually happened?"

Kelda sighed, keeping her eyes on the fire burning in the center of the camp. She was keenly aware of the silence that had fallen; the others were listening, waiting to see what she would say. Kelda had never spoken to anyone outside of her own family about the exact events that led to her scarring. She'd been told on several occasions that maybe telling the story would help her nightmares and panic attacks, but she could never quite bring herself to give voice to the images that still haunted her.

"It was her brother who shielded her from the flame," someone answered in her stead. Kelda and Bilbo both looked up to find Thorin standing before them. Thorin's expression was stonily serious, as it normally seemed to be. Kelda had often remarked that the frown he wore would become permanent if he didn't do something about it, a comment which he generally ignored. She made no such joke this time as she looked at him, standing there in front of her with two bowls of stew in his hands. Not when he had come to rescue her from the sore topic for the second time that night. He handed Kelda one of the bowls, which she gingerly took from him, and then the dwarf turned and walked away without another word. Kelda watched him walk to the other side of the camp, where he sat upon a rock against the cliff side and began eating his own dinner. The skyling dropped her silvery gaze to her bowl of stew, though she made no immediate attempt to eat it.

"I didn't know you had a brother," Kelda heard Kili say, breaking the quiet that had fallen over the camp.

"His name was Shalix," Kelda answered after a short moment. She chanced a quick glance up at the people with her; most of the dwarves were eating, though no doubt they were listening. Others, namely Fili, Kili and Ori, were looking at her with interest. She could not find one ounce of ill-intent in those gathered there, no evidence of judgment towards her. Perhaps it was that which allowed her to feel comfortable enough to continue. "He was my older brother. He was the pride of the family; most powerful War-Mage to have ever come from our line, the first to have gained the Mantle of the Sky from Lopti himself since Réalta."

"Who is Lopti?" Ori asked curiously.

"Lopti is the patron deity of the Sky Folk," Gandalf answered sagely. "He embodies mischief, chaos and the sky and is an agent of change. It is said that Lopti's Mantle grants the one who holds it the ability to bring the sky's wrath down upon his or her enemies."

"That's right. The wielder of the Mantle has a direct line to Lopti," Kelda said in agreement, her gaze back on her stew as she pushed her food around the bowl with her spoon. "Shalix was the first of our people to have earned the Mantle since the ancient times. He…he died to Smaug's flame, because I failed to defend the King Under the Mountain and his grandson as I should-"

"Lady Mage," Balin said interrupted gently, causing Kelda to glance up at him. "I'm sorry, but that is not quite the account I've been told of those events. As I've heard it, you were just as much the reason for the survival of King Thror and Thorin as your brother was. When Thorin ran back into Erebor to get Thror, you, who had become as much a part of that family as he was, did not hesitate to follow. You and your young gryphon were there to help him pull the king from the treasure, to try and move him from Smaug's path. And when the fire-drake turned his fury on you, when you all should have perished in flame, initially it was you who shielded them from that doom. You, a mageling of only nineteen years, barely come into your power, threw yourself against that wyrm's might despite knowing you could not hold it off long. You did not relent as the flame began to burn through your power, nor even when it consumed your wings and very nearly you in your entirety. Your brother died an honorable death, no one will ever deny that, but had it not been for your efforts he would have had nothing but ash to defend."

"That's quite the flight of fancy, like the beginning of some old legend," Kelda answered, doing her best to sound indifferent as she forced herself to eat her stew. She had no real appetite, having lost it sometime during the conversation, but she needed an excuse not to look at the gathered dwarves. "Whoever told you that must not have seen things as clearly as they thought they did."

"I saw clearly enough," came Thorin's deep voice from across the camp. Kelda refused to give in to the urge to look up at the dwarf prince, deliberately ignoring his answer and its implications. Judging by the way he continued speaking without a pause, he hadn't expected her to respond either way. "It's time for sleep; we'll be starting again at daybreak. Fili, Kili, you take watch."

_These dwarves are not going to allow you to continue to believe the lies about yourself that the Elders have made you believe as truth, little one._ Sitheiyra said approvingly as the company began to settle down for the night. Kelda made no answer as she shifted herself against the gryphon's warm flank. _You cannot tell false tales to those who were there and experienced the events for themselves._

_ I do not need Thorin Oakenshield to tell me the truth about myself, Sitheiyra. No dwarf knows me better than I do._

Kelda stretched out on the cold ground, her back against Sitheiyra, and closed her eyes, having no intention of discussing the matter any further. The Muzmulomil sighed wearily at her skyling's stubbornness before curling herself protectively around the little woman and resting her head on her paws.

_In this case, Kelda, I am quite certain that you are wrong._


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: The Hobbit and its people and places are copyright to its creators. Kelda, Sitheiyra and the Skyfolk are mine.**

* * *

Kelda sat on top of the overlook, looking down at the camp. In the glow of the fire Fili and Kili were tending the skyling could make out the forms of all of the company below. Most of them were sleeping with only a few exceptions: the Durin brothers, who were still on watch, Gandalf, who seemed to take very little sleep, and Bilbo, who had wandered over to where the ponies stood.

"This is quite the group you have gathered here, Kelda," said the tall skyling man who was sitting beside her. Kelda hadn't noticed when he'd shown up, nor did she find herself alarmed at his sudden appearance.

"They're a good group. Fun, loyal, determined. They are each an example of all the good in dwarves, a reminder of why I've so missed that life." Kelda looked over at the man sitting next to her, taking in his vibrant red plumage and piercing eyes that seemed to change in color with every passing moment. "Do you know Erebor? Do you know the great shining halls of stone bathed in golden light? Have you felt the warmth and cheer of its halls? The feeling of comfort and safety? I never once thought that it might all be lost. It never crossed my mind that there was some power in this world that could take it all away."

"I know it well. It was a chance at home for the People. Mountain or no mountain, the dwarves of Erebor were the Sky Folk's chance to rebuild what once was. The Queen never should have parted ways from them, but I hardly need to tell you that. Were you conscious, I'm certain you never would have let her make that decision without a fight."

"Mother never would have listened to me, whether I was awake or not. She was so intent on blaming the dwarves for our own misfortunes, so obsessed with taking back the Throne of Stars. Not even Father could sway her. She would have listened to Shalix. If he had been there everything would have been okay…it should be him leading our people."

"What do you think your brother would say to that?"

"It doesn't matter. It should have been me who died and he who lived." Kelda said, uncertain how she was so calm, considering the current topic, or why she was even telling this stranger her thoughts. She felt like he was trustworthy, like she could tell him anything. "Shalix was always the strong one, the favored one. He was a strategist and a natural leader; he was Lopti's chosen! If he were here we would have found a place for our people, we wouldn't be wandering the wilds like a roving pack of dogs. It should be him here, helping the dwarves of Erebor to reclaim their home, not me."

"You know Thorin Oakenshield would hardly have accepted any help from Shalix; he couldn't stand your brother, nor could Shalix stand him. But, little bird," the man said, his reassuring tone making her look back to him. His voice sounded strangely familiar, but she couldn't quite place where she knew it from, and where had she seen that bright red plumage before? "There's one thing that they could always agree on: your importance to them, to this world. You are stronger than you realize and know this, Kelda, Queen of Skies, if you were not here this quest would fail. Without you the King Under the Mountain will fall."

"But-"

"You are needed, more than you can ever understand," the skyling insisted gently. "By your people, by the dwarves of Erebor, by that Mountain King that holds your heart. None of them will find what they seek without you."

"I don't think I can do it," Kelda answered quietly, a wave of anxiety gripping her. She looked down at her hands, picking at her nails. "I don't think I can do it alone."

"Alone? Look around you, Kelda," he said, motioning with a hand to the camp around them. The two skylings were no longer sitting up on the overlook, but now instead stood in the midst of the company; Kelda couldn't quite remember when they had moved, but as red feathered stranger continued speaking the need to question it left her mind. "If you truly believe that you are alone, then you have not been paying attention. You said it yourself; these are good, brave, loyal folk who will be there when you need them, as you will be there when they need you. If they do not already count you as one of their own they shall by the end. You know there is at least one who already does."

"You sound so certain of that," Kelda said with a sigh, glancing over at where Thorin slept sitting up against the rock face. "Why can't I be so sure?"

"That is a fair question, little bird," he said, using a finger to tilt her head back so she was looking at him. "One that you should explore further, once you _wake up_."

* * *

"Orcs?"

Kelda jolted awake at Bilbo's loud whisper, immediately sitting up to look around. She was still safely encircled by Sitheiyra's talons, exactly where she had been when she'd fallen asleep earlier that night. A quick check around the area revealed no sign of the familiar stranger, not one red feather or a trace of latent magic to be found. It had only been a dream.

_More than a dream_, Sitheiyra said sagely, the perk of her foxlike ears the only indication that the gryphon was awake. Kelda merely sighed; she would be getting no more sleep this night. Of that she could be certain.

"Throat-cutters," Fili could be heard saying to Bilbo. "There'll be dozens of them out there. The lowlands are crawling with them."

"They strike in the wee small hours, when everyone's asleep." Kili added solemnly. "Quick and quiet, no screams, just lots of blood."

As Bilbo looked out into the darkness in fright, Kelda watched Fili and Kili look at each other and laugh quietly. The skyling woman frowned slightly; she did not see how terrifying the poor hobbit was funny, nor did she find the topic of orcs laughable either. Orcs were not some made up monsters under the bed. They were not merely a part of tales parents told their children at night to keep them in line. She'd lost plenty of her own people to the creatures over the years. She'd seen the damage they could do. Kelda contemplated chastising the brothers for their poor humor, but decided to stay quiet as she saw Thorin stand up and glower over at them. Apparently the conversation had wakened him and Kelda had little doubt that the wrath of their uncle would be more effective than anything she might have said to them.

"You think that's funny?" Thorin asked, his tone causing Fili and Kili to immediately stop laughing. "You think a night raid by orcs is a joke?"

"We didn't mean anything by it," Kili replied sheepishly, looking down at the ground.

"No, you didn't. You know nothing of the world." Thorin growled as he walked past them, stopping at the edge of the cliff to look over the valley, his back to the camp. Kelda watched the dwarf for a short moment before standing and heading over to the overlook, which she deftly scaled. She sat down at the top, where she had been with the stranger in her dream, and looked down at the camp as Balin walked over to where Fili and Kili were.

"Don't mind him, laddie," the older dwarf said to Kili. "Thorin has more cause than most to hate orcs. After the dragon took the Lonely Mountain, King Thror tried to reclaim the ancient dwarf kingdom of Moria. But our enemy had got there first."

As Kelda listened from her perch up on the overlook, for a brief moment she thought she felt the presence of the stranger again, but it was gone as soon as it had come. It was replaced, however, by a sudden searing ache behind her eyes. The skyling sucked in a breath as the pain intensified and her sight became fuzzy, before fading to black entirely.

When her vision returned, she found herself staring not at the company's camp, but at a massive battlefield where thousands of dwarves and orcs battled outside the great stone gates of Moria. _The Battle of Azanulbizar,_ a male voice supplied; it was the stranger's, she realized, and the same one that she had heard at the beginning of their journey during her panic attack, but she didn't have a moment to consider it as the vision continued. She could see a young Thorin, his father Thrain and his grandfather Thror battling through wave after wave of orcs. She saw Balin and Dwalin as well, all of them younger and fighting fiercely against their foes. Nearby them, a massive pale skinned orc swung his great mace, wiping out multiple dwarves with each swing before turning to engage King Thror in battle.

_"Moria had been taken by legions of Orcs led by the most vile of all their race: Azog the Defiler."_ Kelda heard Balin saying, his voice sounding distorted and distant to her ears. _"The giant Gundabad Orc had sworn to wipe out the line of Durin. He began by beheading the king."_

As the battle continued to rage around him, Kelda watched the pale orc, Azog the Defiler, raise the head of the king into the air with a roar of victory. Horror gripped her as she watched the orc throw Thror's head through the air to land at Thorin's feet. She watched as a look of agony flashed over the dwarf prince's face at seeing his grandfather's head on the ground in front of him.

"Noooo!" He cried as he looked up from Thror's head to the pale Orc.

_"Thrain, Thorin's father, was driven mad by grief,"_ Balin continued. _"He went missing, taken prisoner or killed we did not know. We were leaderless. Defeat and death were upon us. That is when I saw him: a young dwarf prince facing down the Pale Orc."_

As Balin said this, Kelda watched as Thorin faced Azog down. In spite of his valiance, the fight was not going well for the dwarf prince; the skyling could only observe helplessly as the great orc swung his mace once, knocking away Thorin's shield, and then again, tearing his sword out of his hand and sending him rolling down an embankment. As Azog leaped to finish him, Thorin, grabbing an oak branch that lay next to him on the ground, managed to roll away before the orc's mace smashed the spot where the dwarf had only just been.

_"He stood alone against this terrible foe, his armor rent…wielding nothing but an oaken branch as a shield."_

As Balin's words echoed through Kelda's head Azog continued to wield his great mace against Thorin who, despite still laying prone on the ground, blocked the orc's mace with the branch he held. Azog raised his arm to take another swing, but Kelda saw Thorin grab a sword that was lying nearby on the ground. The dwarf prince swung the sword up with all his might, cutting off Azog's mace arm just below the elbow. The great orc grabbed the stump of his arm and howled in agony.

_"Azog the Defiler learned that day that the line of Durin would not be so easily broken."_

With Azog being rushed into Moria by other orcs, Thorin stood and, looking to his fleeing comrades, raised his sword in the air, shouting 'Du Bekâr!' The dwarves stopped running and rallied to him, returning to battle and fighting viciously against the enemy orcs. Seeming to have regained the advantage, the dwarves beat the enemy force back.

The battle was suddenly ripped away from Kelda then, and she was thrown back into herself, into the present where she sat atop the overhang. The company's camp was down below her; they were all awake now, she could see, and listening to Balin's tale.

"Our forces rallied and drove the orcs back. Our enemy had been defeated," the skyling heard Balin say, in spite of the way her head pounded and her ears rang. "But there was no feast, no song that night, for our dead were beyond the count of grief. We few had survived and I thought to myself, there is one I could follow. There is one I could call king."

Kelda looked to where Thorin stood at the edge of the cliff and as he turned back around to face the camp, she was not the only one to stare. Every dwarf in the company was awake and on their feet, looking at Thorin in awe. He regarded the group for a brief moment before walking between them toward the fire.

"But the pale orc?" Bilbo asked from where he still sat by the campfire, looking between Balin and Thorin. "What happened to him?"

"He slunk back into the hole whence he came," Thorin answered as he walked past the halfling. "That filth died of his wounds long ago."

Kelda glanced away then, looking at her hands in her lap. She probably should have been more concerned about why she had just seen a vision of a battle she had not been at, but she had a feeling she knew what had caused it, or rather who. He'd been following her, for how long she did not know, but she'd only started to become aware of it after she'd joined the Company. The voice during her panic attack, the flash of red feathers in the forest; they'd been clues to his presence.

_You believe you should have been there, at the battle for Moria. You believe you should have been there for many things. You feel that you were not there when you were most needed and therefore are undeserving of any comfort he might give. _Kelda heard the stranger's voice intone in her head as she watched Thorin. The skyling woman didn't immediately respond; she wasn't entirely sure she had to. She continued to feel the pressure of his presence; it was heaviness in the atmosphere, similar to that of the calm before a storm. He felt like a force of nature.

_I think I know who you are,_ Kelda finally answered, ignoring what he had said altogether, in spite of the truth of his words. _You are He Who Walks in Air, he who granted wings to my people so we might know what it is to have true freedom. You are the Sky, he who loves the Stone, but can never touch her. The weather is your weapon, the wind your messenger. You are Lopti. What need have you of me?_

Kelda could feel the god's smirk in her mind. She could very nearly see those ever changing eyes looking upon her with cool amusement. She felt his approval, as if blatantly ignoring his words was what he had been looking for; it made no sense.

_The intentions of gods very rarely make sense to mortal minds,_ Kelda heard Sitheiyra say. The gryphon did not seem at all concerned with the situation. In fact, she sounded as if she was drifting back off to sleep. Many of the others had done so; there were still several hours of darkness left before the dawn would come. In the flickering light of the fire, the only movement Kelda could see came from Thorin's shadowed form; he moved at the edge of camp, just beyond the touch of the light. It seemed that he had relieved Fili and Kili from watch duty.

_He made two promises, one to you and one to your brother. Now that he is able, you should let him keep them, _Lopti said as Kelda watched the dwarf prince once again stand at the cliff's edge and look out over the valley. She frowned slightly, her brow furrowing at the Sky God's words.

_What promise did he make my brother?_

The only answer that came was the soft rustling of the wind in the trees and Kelda breathed a small sigh. The god was gone, at least from her perception. She wasn't really surprised by his strange actions and vague, seemingly pointless statements. In fact, she was baffled that he had contacted her directly at all. Often times even those who worked most closely with the gods received nothing more than unclear signs for answers.

_He must believe this to be of utmost importance, then, to have come to you so obviously,_ Sitheiyra said drowsily. _Heed him._

_I will do as I please, god or no god,_ Kelda responded hotly, shooting a glare down at the Muzmulomil, still curled up where she had been all night. The gryphon simply hummed in amusement.

_And it would please you to go and speak with your Mountain King._

Kelda continued to glower over at Sitheiyra for a moment longer, but then she relented with a sigh. Standing, she brushed herself off before going to the edge of the overlook and leaping off. Her wings snapped open and she glided easily over the camp and its sleeping inhabitants before landing a foot or so behind Thorin.

"You should be sleeping," Thorin said quietly as Kelda came to stand beside him. The skyling shrugged her shoulders, shaking her wings out before once again folding them neatly against her back.

"Can't," she answered simply. She paused for a moment, glancing at the dwarf from the corner of her eye before continuing. "I never thanked you."

"For what?"

That was a loaded question, one that could have had a very long answer. She could have thanked him for saving her life, after she had been nearly killed by Smaug's flame and her brother was gone; the dwarves and the Sky Folk had gone their separate ways long before she had awoken and she hadn't seen him since. She wanted to thank him for letting her join the company, for giving her the chance at revenge and home. She wanted to thank him for staying alive long enough for her to see him again, but those were all very sensitive, emotionally charged things that she wasn't sure she was prepared to say.

"A lot of things," the skyling admitted, shifting her weight from one foot to the other restlessly. To mask her nervous movements, Kelda sat herself down on the ground, letting her legs dangle over the cliff's edge. "But for the sake of simplicity, I'll go ahead and say the strawberries."

"They were an apology," Thorin answered, short and to the point. Kelda smiled a bit as she kicked her legs over the open air; he had never been one to dance around the subject. After having to deal with the game of words that the Elders liked to play for so long, she found that his blunt honesty was refreshing.

"I know. That doesn't mean I can't thank you for them."

"Hm. Well, then, for the sake of simplicity, I'll go ahead and say you're welcome for the strawberries," he said, glancing down at her. Kelda laughed lightly, looking up at him for a brief moment before patting the ground next to her.

"Sit with me? I know we're on watch, but the wards I set up will alert us if anything's coming and I just thought…well we haven't really had a chance to talk yet," Kelda sighed and began to pick at her nails nervously. "That's mostly my fault, I know. I've kind of been avoiding it."

"I'd noticed."

"And yet you didn't say anything?" Kelda asked, watching as the dwarf sat down beside her, though he made quite certain to put a bit of space between himself and the cliff's edge.

"I wished to, but Balin advised me otherwise, thought that I should give you some time. I decided to heed him. However, I was beginning to think that you had no want to speak with me at all."

That went a long way to explain why he'd been so grouchy with her, Kelda thought, and she felt a small wave of relief. That gave her one less reason for doubt, though it only added to her guilt. She'd spent the entire trip so far deflecting his every attempt at speaking with her about them, then after every attempt she'd avoid him for a bit for good measure. She couldn't exactly blame him for starting to get annoyed with her.

"I'm sorry, Thorin. I just didn't know where we stood; it's been so long…"

"One hundred and seventy one years. If you're keeping track," Thorin interjected, sounding as if he could have told her the exact number of months, weeks, days, hours and minutes that made up that time. There was so much loneliness in his statement; Kelda felt like someone had stabbed her in the gut with a sword and twisted the blade.

"Oh, Lopti preserve me," Kelda cursed, dropping her head into her hands. She'd made a mistake, waiting so long to talk to him, one that she was currently regretting with all of her being. "Can we, um, can we backtrack a bit? Can we start over and just pretend, for a moment, that I wasn't such a coward and that we're back in the Shire, having this conversation then instead of now?"

"Would that make you feel better?"

"Sadly, yes."

"So be it, then. We've not yet left the hobbit's house," the dwarf answered with serious finality; they'd never left the shire. It was officially fact, until somebody stated otherwise. "Shall I have you sign the contract again, Lady Mage?"

"No," Kelda said with a small smile, lifting her head from her hands to look over at him. "No, Master Oakenshield, that's not necessary. You're lucky I even signed it the first time. In fact, had it been anyone other than you trying to get me to do it, I wouldn't have. You know how I am with putting my name on something; there's power in a name."

"Yes, well you needn't worry about that. I've no great power to bind you with, name or no name." Thorin said, and then he reached over to gently lift the pendant hanging around Kelda's neck in order to look at it more closely. "You kept it."

"Yes, I did. It reminded me of..." _You_, she thought to herself, though she couldn't quite bring herself to say it out loud. "Home. It reminded me of home."

"It was broken?" He asked, running his thumb over the jagged line going down the center of the necklace.

"About thirty years after Erebor fell," Kelda began to explain, also looking down at the necklace. "My little sister Anayla and her hippogriff Tazir wandered away from the caravan; she was only fifteen at the time and was always running out into the woods in search of elves and faeries. Normally she returned unscathed and got a long lecture from Draxis, but that time…well, she was lucky Sitheiyra and I were doing a bit of evening hunting, because instead of finding beautiful woodland folk, she found herself a cave troll. She and Tazir had squeezed themselves beneath a small stone overhang but the beast had them trapped there and was working on pulling the rock right out of the ground. Sith and I managed to drive it off, but not without a great deal of trouble; I returned home with my terrified sister and more than one smashed rib. The pendant had been broken sometime during the process. I was inconsolable for days, until Draxis repaired it for me."

"You stood alone against a cave troll. That was quite brave."

"No braver than standing alone against a great pale orc," Kelda replied, looking back up at him. Thorin met her silvery gaze for a moment before making a sound of dismissal, obviously having no intention of discussing that matter further. He released the necklace, letting it fall back against Kelda's chest before turning his attention to her wings then. The dwarf's eyes lingered where they were bound tightly at their bases in black cloth for a second before sweeping over the feathers.

"I was told that you wouldn't even survive your wounds, let alone that your feathers would return," Thorin said as he looked her over. "It appears that your healers were wrong on both counts."

"They were wrong on one; I'm not dead yet. As for the feathers…" Kelda sighed, shifting her wings self-consciously and dropping her gaze. "They weren't wrong. My feathers never grew back. These are…they're not natural. I had to use a spell to get them, one that I made up after a lot of trial and error. Essentially they're feathers that I can turn to metal, of a sort, when I have need to. Like blades. They're coarse to the touch and they're heavier and stiffer than true feathers. I couldn't even really get them to be red like my natural ones were. The closest I could come to is this orange color and they take so long to develop correctly; obviously I've still not been able to finish all of them after all this time…but it's the best I could do."

"I quite like them," Thorin stated matter-of-factly as he reached up to pull a leaf from the plumage on her head. Kelda quickly looked back at him, surprise flitting across her face, followed by disbelief and confusion. Draxis had told her once he thought they were ingenious. Anayla, who had by far the prettiest golden feathers to have ever graced the planet, had told her once that they suited her, but nobody had ever claimed to like them before.

"You…like them?" Kelda asked hesitantly, wondering if perhaps she had misheard the dwarf and was simply mistaken. Thorin just nodded his head, erasing any doubt that she had indeed heard him correctly.

"Aye. They remind me of fire opals."

"Fire opals? I think I've seen ladies of the court of Gondor wearing them as jewelry. Are those the ones that look like someone captured the essence of the evening sun and put it in a gem?"

"That would be them."

"Those are…very pretty stones."

"They are," Thorin answered calmly. Kelda bit her lip and fidgeted under his gaze for a moment, painfully aware of the hot blush creeping across her skin. Only a dwarf could cause someone to blush by comparing them to a stone, the skyling thought to herself. Only this particular dwarf could make her blush at all.

"Damn you, Thorin Oakenshield, now look what you've gone and done, making me blush like some smitten youth. I do hope that you're pleased with yourself," she said before giving him a playful shove. "And stop giving me that puppy-eyed look. I'm a warrior, not some starry-eyed waif here to succumb to your kingly charms. You'd think after nearly two centuries I'd be immune."

"I apologize, Lady Mage. I would promise you that it won't happen again but I do not make promises that I can't keep."

"Can't keep? Or won't keep?"

"Both." The dwarf said with a crooked grin, the kind that she hadn't seen on his face since she'd lost him at the fall of Erebor. As Kelda rolled her eyes at his answer, her first instinct was to make a joke out of it, to hide behind the wall of humor and sarcasm she'd built around her heart to keep it safe from intruders. But Thorin isn't an intruder, she reminded herself. One cannot intrude in territory one already owns.

"Thatûr ra bin'aban," the skyling breathed with a slight shake of her head. She reached out to gently take his face in both her hands, rested her forehead against his and closed her eyes. "I missed you, you great oaf."

Kelda felt as much as heard the low roll of the dwarf's quiet laughter as he rested his hand against the back of her neck and leaned into her a little more.

"I missed you as well, Mimzunsh," he said, pulling her a bit closer to him. "I am glad that I found you again."

* * *

Khuzdul Translations:

Du Bekâr-To arms

Thatûr ra bin'aban- Stars and stones

Mimzunsh-Little bird


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: The Hobbit and its peoples and places belong to its creators. Kelda, Sitheiyra and the Skyfolk are mine.**

Thank you all for the kind reviews, it means a lot to know you're enjoying my work and helps keep me motivated. You're all wonderful. :-)

This one's a bit of a filler chapter, but I hope you all like it none-the-less!

* * *

Kelda narrowed her eyes against the cold, stinging rain as she and Sitheiyra carved their way through the stormy gray sky. They'd left the rest of the company behind in the forest below to scout ahead and see if there was anyplace nearby they might be able to wait out the worst of the rain, but they'd found very little despite their efforts. There had been some old buildings several miles ahead of them, but she doubted the company would reach it before the evening; it probably wouldn't even be raining any more by that point, if she was reading the weather correctly. So it seemed that, for the time being anyway, they had no choice but to continue on being cold and wet and miserable. No doubt the others would be thrilled at the news.

_They'll get over it,_ Sitheiyra said as she wheeled over the forest, searching the gaps in the canopy for the company. _Dwarves are hardy creatures. A little rain and cold will hardly kill them._

_Sure, but it might make them unbearably grouchy._

_That's hardly a big deal._

_Easy for you to say, it's not you they'll be grouching at,_ Kelda thought back to the gryphon as she leaned over a bit to look down at the treetops_. Look there, Sitheiyra. Is that them? I thought I saw a flash of movement._

_Ah, yes indeed. Good eyes, little one._

The Muzmulomil descended quickly, slipping through a gap in the canopy and landing hard on the muddy pathway between the trees, sending mud and water splashing up around her. She'd dropped down just in front of the company, causing the ponies to spook; no doubt it had been intentional. Sitheiyra took great amusement in startling the 'dumb pack beasts', especially since Bilbo, her initial source of entertainment, had finally stopped flinching every time the gryphon moved too quickly.

"Was that really necessary?" Thorin asked with a slight frown once he had finally calmed his mount. Kelda simply shrugged her shoulders as she and Sitheiyra came up alongside him. The skyling shook the excess water off her wings despite the fact that in a moment they'd be drenched again.

"Don't blame me. Gryphons will do as they please."

"Hmph. Did you find anything?" The dwarf's short response was indicative of the bad mood Kelda had predicted, one that had settled over the whole company and worsened the longer the rain continued.

"Unfortunately we didn't find anything close enough to be of any help, though there are a few old buildings a couple miles away we might be able to get to before nightfall, if we keep our current pace." As the company expressed their disappointment, Kelda watched a look of annoyance settle on Thorin's face and almost instantly her own mood fell a bit. "I'm sorry I don't have better news for you…"

"It's not as if you control the weather," Thorin answered gruffly, though his tone softened a bit once he looked over and saw the skyling's mildly downtrodden expression. "I do not blame you."

"I know." Kelda said to him with a small smile. It was only once he had turned his attention back to the road ahead that she sighed and shivered. Skylings weren't nearly as resilient as dwarves and the rain had soaked through all of her clothing, causing it to plaster to her skin and leaving her with a miserably persistent chill.

"Here, Mister Gandalf," Dori said from somewhere behind the soaked skyling. "Can't you do something about this deluge?"

"It is raining, Master Dwarf," the wizard answered exasperatedly. "And it will continue to rain until the rain is done. If you wish to change the weather of the world you should find yourself another wizard."

"Are there any?" Bilbo piped up from his position further back in the line of ponies.

"What?" Gandalf replied.

"Other wizards?"

"There are five of us," Gandalf began to explain. "The greatest of our order is Saruman, the White. Then there are the two Blue Wizards…you know, I've quite forgotten their names."

"And who is the fifth?"

"Well that would be Radagast, the Brown."

"Is he a great wizard," Bilbo asked. "Or is he…more like you?"

Gandalf looked over his shoulder slightly at the Hobbit, seeming to be a bit offended by Bilbo's comment. Kelda snickered in laughter before she was able to stop herself, putting her hand over mouth to muffle the sound. Thorin gave her a side-long look, to which she just responded with an apologetic shrug.

"I think he's a very great wizard, in his own way." Gandalf said. "He's a gentle soul who prefers the company of animals to others. He keeps a watchful eye over the vast forest lands to the East, and a good thing too, for always Evil will look to find a foothold in this world."

Kelda felt another shiver crawl down her spine, though whether it was due to the rain or the wizard's words she wasn't entirely sure. The skyling knew Gandalf was always casting a wary eye across the realm in search of signs of evil and while normally she thought he was being a bit paranoid, recently she'd begun to wonder. Her sister Anayla had been having some strange dreams as of late, dreams of darkness and fire, dreams that were dripping with the overwhelming aura of ancient evil. Her sister was a skilled Seer and rarely did she mistake a mundane dream or nightmare for a vision. There seemed to be something brewing in the future. Kelda feared that maybe it had something to do with their quest, with the mountain and the dragon. Was Anayla foreseeing their doom?

_Oh ye of little faith._

_I know,_ Kelda answered Sitheiyra with a sigh. _I know, I should not doubt, but I just don't see how thirteen dwarves, a wizard, a hobbit, a gryphon and a crippled skyling are going to slay Smaug. Seventeen against the malice that overthrew a great dwarf kingdom single handedly? Those are not good odds, Sith._

_More often than not, if you look at any time of great change in the world, you will find that the actions of a small, dedicated group of individuals are often the cause._ Sitheiyra answered sagely, opening her wings to shake the water from her dark feathers. _Do not lose your faith in this quest, or in Thorin Oakenshield. He will need your stubborn loyalty before the end._

Kelda flicked her wingtips as she thought over the gryphon's words, giving the dwarf beside her a covert glance; even when he was sopping wet Thorin looked every bit the king, riding with his back straight, broad shoulders back, eyes forward. That small frown of annoyance still resided on his face, but did little to mar his ruggedly handsome features. Long strands of his black hair clung to his face and neck, accentuating the strong shape of his jaw. Kelda began to lift her hand to brush the wet strands back from his face, but froze in her motion once she realized what she was doing and dropped her hand quickly back into her lap, hoping nobody noticed.

The skyling listened for a moment, breathing a small sigh of relief when the few conversations she did hear had nothing to do with her or what she was doing; for the most part the company was once again travelling in muted, depressed silence, the rain leaving them in no mood for idle talk. It gave Kelda time to berate herself for what she had almost done. Thorin was a dwarf, and a royal dwarf at that. She couldn't just go and touch his hair without permission, it was an intimate act in dwarvish culture and she had no right to do it. She wasn't his wife. Really, she wasn't quite sure what she was to him. They hadn't really figured that out just yet. She had to start thinking before she acted or else she'd do something to embarrass herself _and_ Thorin.

_He is not off limits, you know._ Kelda heard Sitheiyra say after a moment, the gryphon glancing back at the skyling over her shoulder. _You would not be embarrassing him by showing your affection; the rest of the company already knows of his feelings for you. It is simply your feelings for him that they are unsure of._

_How could they possibly know anything? It's not as if he treats me any different than he does any other member of the company. _The gryphon's laughter echoed through Kelda's mind, confusing her and making her frown. _What's so funny?_

_I am sorry, little one, but sometimes you can be so blind._ Sitheiyra answered with fond amusement. _Though I do suppose he does his best to make certain you're not looking when he stares at you like you're made of solid gold._

_He does not._

_On my honor,_ the gryphon answered simply.

Kelda fidgeted in the saddle, drumming her fingernails nervously on the saddle horn before glancing over at Thorin again. If the rest of the company already knew of their king's affections and intentions, would it be so bad if they knew her's? The skyling turned her gaze forward, looking on down the path as she tried to gather the courage to reach out again. She twitched her wings nervously, trying to disguise the motion as an attempt to rid her feathers of rainwater, before flexing her fingers and beginning to raise her hand.

"Kelda?"

Startled by Gandalf suddenly calling to her, Kelda snatched her hand back, frustration and annoyance with herself and the interruption bubbling up in her chest. The fact that Kelda thought she saw a small smile pull at Thorin's lips as she turned to look back at Gandalf didn't help her nerves, either.

"Yes, good sir wizard?" She answered with a well practiced casual demeanor, looking at him as if he hadn't obviously startled her. "What can I do for you?"

"It has been quite some time since I've heard your enchanting voice," the wizard said with a pleasant smile. "Would you perhaps be willing to sing us a song? It might help to lift the spirits and combat the dreariness of this storm."

"You know that's not a good idea, Gandalf-"

"Ah, come now lass, we've all heard stories of the soaring voices and mystifying dances of the Sky Folk," Bofur said, gesturing toward Balin and Thorin to suggest they'd been the ones to tell said stories. "We'd like to hear for ourselves. Please, let's have us a song."

"No, you don't understand," Kelda said with a sigh. "It's not that I don't wish to sing for you, it's just that it's not safe."

"Not safe?" Fili said as he looked at Kelda like what she'd said was absurd. "It's a song, how is singing a song unsafe?"

"The Sky Folk sing their enchantments and dance their battle spells, Master Fili," Gandalf said, answering for Kelda. "Their magic is in their voices and their motions. When they wish to weave an enchantment they will sing, and the world responds to them. Their voices will often have a bewitching effect on those who hear it unless they are protected. In this case, however, there is little cause for concern as I am more than capable of guarding against the bewitchment for the time being. It is more than safe, Lady Mage, for you to sing a song if you so wish."

_Perhaps you should consider it,_ Sitheiyra said, shuffling her wings and chirping encouragingly. _It may help them to gain some immunity to your bewitchment if they hear, so that it will not affect them should there be a battle. Besides, you know how your Mountain King used to enjoy listening to you sing._

_I suppose you're right,_ Kelda answered the gryphon, before speaking out loud to the others. "Oh, very well then, a song it is. Let's see, what song to do, so many to choose from…"

Kelda pondered the question for a moment. It wasn't normal for the Sky Folk to sing idly; their singing voices were so heavily laced with magic that they rarely sang unless it was necessary. When they did sing for pleasure, however, they sang of their current emotions, a song that reflected what they were thinking and feeling. Most of the company didn't know that and wouldn't know the difference and those who did, namely Gandalf, Balin, Dwalin and Thorin, weren't likely to call her out on it. So, she decided to risk it and sing from her heart.

"_Just give me your hand,_

_Balakhjum e rathkhmêzu._

_Just give me your hand_

_And I'll walk with you,_

_Through the streets of our land,_

_Through the mountains so grand._

_If you give me your hand._

_Just give me your hand,_

_And come along with me._

_Will you give me your hand,_

_And the world it can see,_

_That we can be free,_

_In peace and harmony?_

_From the north to the south._

_From the east to the west._

_Every mountain, every valley,_

_Every bush and bird's nest!_

_By day and by night,_

_Through all struggle and strife,_

_And beside you, to guide you,_

_Forever, my love._

_For love's not for one,_

_But for both of us to share._

_For our kingdom so fair,_

_For our world and what's there._"

As Kelda sang the whole of the world seemed to stop to listen to her clear, lilting voice. The ponies grew quiet, the forest went still and even the sound of the rain seemed to grow dim in the wake of the skyling's song. Around the company the air seemed to shimmer, the raindrops shining like little jewels as they fell and as Kelda continued her song her companions listened in utter silence, a strange thing for the normally loud and lively group of dwarves.

"_Just give me your hand,_

_Balakhjum e rathkhmêzu._

_Just give me your hand,_

_For the world it is ours._

_All the sea and the land,_

_To destroy or command,_

_If you give me your hand._

_Just give me your hand,_

_In a gesture of peace._

_Will you give me your hand_

_And all troubles will cease,_

_For the strong and the weak,_

_For the rich and the poor?_

_All peoples and creeds,_

_Let's meet their needs._

_With a passion, we can fashion,_

_A new world of love!_

_By day and by night,_

_Through all struggle and strife,_

_And beside you, to guide you,_

_Forever, my love._

_For love's not for one,_

_But for both of us to share._

_For our kingdom so fair,_

_For our world and what's there."_

A silence fell after Kelda's last lingering note faded away and for a moment all that could be heard was the soft pattering of the rain and the sound of the ponies' hooves splashing over the muddy path. The skyling thought she heard Gandalf hum in pleased satisfaction, but the sound was so quiet she thought she might have imagined it. Kelda began to worry; had she perhaps bewitched them despite Gandalf's assurance that he could protect them from it? Did she have to sing a counter-spell in order to release them from it?

"By Mahal, I'd forgotten," Dwalin breathed, finally breaking the silence; Kelda let out a quiet sigh of relief at the sound of his voice. At the very least that meant she wouldn't have to try and break a bewitchment on the fly, as she wasn't that great at such counter-enchantments at the best of times. Being a war mage came with its disadvantages. Powerful as she was at battle and defensive magic, the simple enchantments that took her cousin or uncle a few moments could take her an hour to complete. Though she supposed she was better off than her sister; Anayla, as a Seer, had a difficult time with both enchantments and battle magic, the price to pay for seeing visions of the future.

"And here I had thought the tales were exaggerated," Bofur said with a shake of his head. "I've been proven entirely wrong; that was quite a thing."

"I thank you for your kind words, master dwarf," Kelda said with a slight smile, looking back at Bofur as she did. "But I hardly have the best voice among my people; you should hear my little cousin Amva. She could sing the scales off a dragon."

"Amva is quite good, that is true, but I am of the belief that these gentlemen would prefer your voice over her's," Kelda heard the wizard say. "You've a far more dwarvish style to your songs than your fellows."

Kelda merely shrugged in response, not entirely sure she agreed with Gandalf's assessment. She had never considered herself the most talented spell-singer of her family. She was far more skilled at the dances of battle; she much preferred kicking up flames under heels than bringing on peace with a song.

"Perhaps you'll grace us with a dance, later," Thorin added nonchalantly after a moment, as if reading her mind. An impish smile pulled at Kelda's lips as she looked over at the dwarf riding along beside her.

"Well, I don't know. What's in it for me?"

"What's in it for you?"

"That's right," the skyling said cheerfully, her wings shuffling in a playful display. "What's it worth to you?"

"You will have my…undying gratitude," Thorin said after a moment, the statement almost sounding like a question. Sitheiyra chirruped in amusement as Kelda leaned back slightly in the saddle, as if contemplating the dwarf's answer.

"The undying gratitude of a dwarf king, hmm? That's not a bad offer, I suppose," Kelda said thoughtfully before once again sitting up straight. She shrugged her shoulders. "Sitheiyra and I will have to think about it while we scout ahead."

Without so much as another word Sitheiyra, who was more than willing to play along with her skyling's silly games, snapped her wings open and launched herself up off the ground. As the two of them shot through an opening in the trees, Kelda heard Balin say, "Ah, laddie, you should have said strawberries."

* * *

Khuzdul translations:

Balakhjum e rathkhmêzu- Just give me your hand

Disclaimer: The song in this chapter isn't mine, sadly. It's an old Irish folk song from the early 17th century called Give Me Your Hand by Ruaidri Dáll Ó Catháin, that I like a lot and I thought it fit with the story and chapter. I just changed the Irish Gaelic lines to Khuzdul.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything associating with The Hobbit or the Lord of the Rings. That honor goes to the creators. Only Kelda, Sitheiyra and the Sky Folk can be credited to me.**

Okay, so I've had a few mentions that people liked the way I ended the last chapter, with the comment about the strawberries. I'm glad you all found it amusing; I added it last minute and I was entirely unsure of it. Thank you also for the continuous support!

Now I apologize if the fight in this chapter seems a little choppy. I haven't yet caught the hang of fight scenes, but I did my best. Let me know what you think! :-)

* * *

Sitheiyra landed lightly on the ground nearby the abandoned farmhouse ruins that the company had chosen to camp by and Kelda hopped off of the gryphon's back, her mood greatly improved since the rain had stopped some hours ago. The skyling woman hummed to herself as she undid the straps that held the saddle and battle-armor onto the sleek black gryphon, listening to Thorin give marching orders to the lads as she did.

"We'll have to ask our fearless leader before I let you go," Kelda said to the gryphon as she pulled the shimmering silver helm from Sitheiyra's head. "Considering you're as much a part of the company as I am I'm sure he'll want to know where you're off to, as per usual."

_I'm certain he'll understand,_ Sitheiyra answered as she stretched forward like a cat, her lethal curved talons reaching out in front of her. _Unlike the rest of you, I cannot survive on stew and salted meat. I've said as much before._

"Well obviously I know that, but sometimes I think he forgets."

_Ask, then, so I might be on my way,_ the gryphon answered with mild impatience, shaking out her long wings. Kelda smiled, patting her old friend on the neck before turning and heading toward the farmhouse, where she thought she had seen Thorin head with Gandalf.

Kelda made her way across the camp to where the ruined farmhouse stood, humming an old dwarvish folk song to herself as she went. The dwarves had spread out over the camp, as they often did, and were either talking among themselves, preparing their bedrolls or doing whatever task Thorin had set for them, but as she passed them they were still certain to acknowledge her with a greeting or a wave of the hand. She smiled fondly at each of them, reciprocating their greetings; the longer she was among them the more they became like family.

"I do not need their advice," the skyling heard Thorin say gruffly as she approached the farmhouse. She stopped just before the entrance, unsure whether or not she should interrupt.

"We have a map that we cannot read," Gandalf replied to Thorin, doing his best to calmly persuade the dwarf of the truth of his words. Kelda was quite certain nothing would change; she'd heard the wizard attempt this conversation several other times since they set off. "Lord Elrond could help us."

"Help?" Thorin growled back. "A dragon attacks Erebor, what help came from the Elves? Orcs plunder Moria, desecrate our sacred halls, the Elves looked on and did nothing. You ask me to seek out the very people who betrayed my grandfather and betrayed my father."

"You are neither of them. I did not give you that map and key for you to hold on to the past."

"I did not know that they were yours to keep."

Obviously having had enough of trying to argue with the stubborn dwarf, Gandalf stormed off angrily, going right past the skyling standing there as he headed out of the camp. The rest of the company watched him go, including Bilbo who called after the wizard.

"Is everything alright?" The hobbit asked as Gandalf passed him. "Gandalf, where are you going?"

"To seek the company of the only one around here who's got any sense."

"Who's that?"

"_Myself, Mr. Baggins!_" Gandalf shouted back over his shoulder, his foul mood showing. "I've had enough of dwarves for one day."

As the wizard disappeared into the surrounding wilderness, Kelda sighed and shook her head before heading in to where Thorin still stood. The dwarf's stubbornness was going to be the death of him, she thought. Of course, she wasn't really one to judge; the same was often said about her.

"Come on, Bombur, we're hungry," Thorin called to the large dwarf cooking over the fire; their fair leader was seemingly unconcerned by Gandalf's departure. Thorin glanced at Kelda then, looking her over suspiciously as if he half expected her to start arguing with him about the elves as well. It was true, she had half a mind to do exactly that, but at the moment she had something else to bring up with him that she deemed more important.

"Sith would like your permission to leave the camp to hunt tonight," the skyling said, doing her best to look as passive as possible, despite the fact that she wished to challenge him about his decision. She was hoping that he would either not notice or, if he did, that he would ignore it.

"Hm. Very well," he answered somewhat shortly. "She'll return in the morning?"

"She always does," Kelda said distractedly as she reached out to the gryphon across the camp. _Go on ahead, Sith. Just be careful._

_ I am always careful. Will you be alright to deal with the Mountain King on your own, little one? He seems to be in quite the combative mood._

_ Oh, yes, I think I can manage. As everyone seems to enjoy reminding me, I'm the one he likes, remember?_

_ I remember. Very well, then, I will return before the company leaves in the morning,_ the gryphon answered, beating her wings and lifting off into the air. Kelda looked up in time to see Sitheiyra glide past the farmhouse, over the heads of the rest of the company. _He's watching you,_ she added as she flew out of sight.

"She'll be happy to get out on her own for a bit," Kelda said conversationally, glancing over to find that Thorin was indeed watching her. She couldn't help but fidget under his intense gaze; he always seemed so focused when he looked at her like that. She wondered what he was thinking.

"You have an opinion on the elves," the dwarf said after a moment, keeping his gaze on her to observe her reaction. Kelda glanced back at him and then shrugged her slender shoulders, keeping an entirely casual demeanor.

"Yes, maybe, but seeing as I'm in a fairly good mood right now and I really have no wish to fight with you at the moment, I believe I will keep it to myself."

"You think I'll fight with you?"

Kelda simply arched an eyebrow at him in answer, a look to which he responded with a small huff of amusement and the slightest of smiles. Success! Once again she had safely navigated one of Thorin's foul moods. She found she was quite skilled at it. The skyling hummed victoriously, shuffling her wings as she looked back out at the camp and then to the trees beyond it. She and Sitheiyra had seen a stream coming down from the mountains when they'd first passed by and Kelda found herself wondering if it might be warm enough for her to go bathe herself in.

"There's a mountain spring just a five minute or so walk over the ridge," she said to Thorin, pointing so he knew where she was talking about. "I think I'm going to go and wash; all this dirt and grime is bad for the feathers. I'll be there if you need me, alright?"

"Very well," she heard him reply as she began to walk off. "Do not stray any farther than that, Kelda, and do not stay overlong."

"Yes, mother," she called back cheerfully, letting out a light laugh when she heard him grumble at her facetious response.

* * *

Kelda hummed quietly to herself as she made her way back over the ridge, running her hands over her still slightly damp plumage; she felt more refreshed now than she had for quite a while. The cool, crystal waters of the spring had soothed her aches and washed away the dust and muck, leaving her clean, invigorated and cheerful. She was looking forward to filling her stomach and bullshitting with the lads. Of course, she'd stayed far longer than she had intended; she'd lost track of time and evening had changed into night. No doubt she was going to get an earful from Thorin about it. She was more than willing to deal with his attitude now that she was clean, of course, but as she got closer to the camp something caught her attention and pulled her from her thoughts.

It was the quiet that was bothering her. She couldn't hear anything beyond the sound of the night, no voices or laughter or any other thing. Immediately concerned, the skyling picked up her pace, jogging back to the camp only to find it entirely empty. Neither the dwarves nor the hobbit were anywhere to be seen, but all of their belongings remained…everything besides their weapons. Alarm shooting through her, Kelda strained her senses, trying to pick up any sign of where they might have gone. It only took her a moment of concentration before she finally heard it; the faint sound of very unhappy dwarves coming from somewhere in the trees beyond. Without a moment's hesitation Kelda snatched up her staff from the ground and dashed in the direction of their voices.

The state she found her companions in was, frankly, pitiful. Several of the dwarves had been tied to a large branch and were being roasted on a spit over the fire. The rest of them, Bilbo included, were in sacks on the ground. They were all still alive, thankfully. Unfortunately, though, so were their captors. As Kelda crouched in the underbrush, she counted three large mountain trolls in the clearing, sitting around the fire discussing how they should go about eating the dwarves. The skyling shifted her weight slightly, her lips pinching together; these were not good odds. She'd faced down trolls before, but in those previous encounters either the troll had been alone or she'd had backup. Taking on three full grown trolls all by her lonesome was not something she was looking forward to, but what choice did she have? She couldn't very well sit there and let them eat her friends.

"You found them!" Kelda exclaimed as she moved out of the underbrush and into the open clearing, garnering the attention of both the trolls and the company. She really wished that she had a better plan, or really any plan at all, but she didn't. As per usual she'd have to make do and wing it.

"Say what?" One of the trolls said as they all turned to her. She ignored the calls of warning from the dwarves as she looked up at the trolls with a smile, hoping to the gods that the dumb brutes would ignore how she slowly spun her staff in her right hand. She had to keep them going long enough to gather as much energy in the staff as possible.

"You found my idiots!" The skyling motioned to the dwarves with her free hand, to help the trolls understand what she was talking about. Even in their current situation, the dwarves managed to take offense at her comment, shouting and arguing in protest. Kelda continued to ignore them. "They're always wandering off getting into trouble. I thought I'd lost them all for sure this time. Thank you for finding them for me!"

"Idits? What's an idit?" The troll who had a lazy eye asked before looking off toward one of his companions. "I thought you said they are dwarves, Bert!"

"Oh, no you misunderstand, they _are_ dwarves," Kelda interjected, still steadily spinning her war staff as she took a few steps closer, trying to position herself in the best way before the trolls came for her, and she knew they soon would. "They're dwarf idiots. You know, the kind that go running off to battle without their War-Mage. It's a terrible affliction, idiocy, it really is and I don't want to burden you with them any longer, so might I have my idiots back now, please?"

"Why would we do that?" The third companion to Lazy-Eye and Bert said, eyeing Kelda suspiciously. "We found them, so they're ours now, and we're going to eat them!"

"Yeah…and that one looks like it might be tasty too! Just pluck the feathers off of it; it might taste like a chicken!"

"Now, fellas," Kelda said as she shifted to a wider and more powerful stance. "There's no need-"

"That's right! It's only just a mouthful, but it's more than nothing." Bert said to Lazy-Eye, starting to move around the fire towards Kelda. The little woman simply stood where she was, calmly watching the trolls move themselves so they might capture her. She concentrated on the sound her staff made as it swung by her head at an ever quickening speed, picking up momentum as the heavy hematite orb at the top rushed through the air.

"Very well," Kelda said, her voice eerily cold, a sudden and obvious change compared to her earlier friendliness. "If this is to end in blood, then so be it."

As the trolls closed in and the dwarves could be heard yelling and trying to pull out of their various bonds to try and help her, Kelda raised her whirling battle-staff in the air before slamming its end down on the ground with a snarl. The moment the staff hit the earth a blast of force rushed out from it, staggering the trolls, pushing them back and tripping one up altogether so that he fell with a ground-shaking _thud_. Dirt flew as Kelda ripped the bladed end of her staff out of the forest floor and swung it toward the nearest troll as she began her deadly dance.

The skyling's steps were light and fluid as she whirled, a mix of flashing blade, heavy swinging stone and blasts of fire and force that danced around and between the trolls. Her small size made it easier for her to dodge their grasping hands and stomping feet. She answered every attempt to grab her with a slash of her staff blade or a blast of fire and was rewarded with blood and cries of pain every time, but she knew that she wasn't going to be able to keep this up with three giant opponents. Not for much longer at any rate. Kelda had been hoping that maybe one of the dwarves might be able to escape and free the others to take up arms, or perhaps that Gandalf or Sitheiyra would appear, but it seemed that she would have no such luck. She would have to last for as long as possible and pray that something would happen in the interim that would tip the encounter in her favor.

Sliding beneath one of the trolls' swinging fists, Kelda sang a few notes, releasing a shield enchantment that she had stored in her pendant earlier on the journey for just such an occasion. A shimmering barrier of force sprang up around her, its light casting the dark forest and the figures within in an eerie green glow; she hoped it would allow her to take more hits and make her ability to fight last longer. The war-mage wasn't about to sit there and wait to find out, though, and as Lazy-Eye charged at her with a roar of frustration, she rolled beneath him, jumping to her feet behind him in just enough time to leap over the thick arm the third troll attempted to clobber her with, using him as a springboard in order to jump up and slam Bert in the face with her staff's stone head. Bert placed his hand over his bashed in nose and, with a bellow of outrage, he swung his arm out to hit Kelda's barrier with immense force. The energy shield buzzed at the impact and Kelda was flung to the ground, getting the air knocked out of her lungs as she landed. She was otherwise unharmed, though; the shield, while pretty badly cracked, had done its job and softened the blow for her, but it probably wouldn't take another hit like that. She had to get up and moving again before one of the trolls took another swing at her.

The thought came a little too late, though, and by the time Kelda had regained enough of her breath to get moving again Bert was slamming his fist down at her. Eyes wide, Kelda forced herself to roll to the side as the troll's arm came down, shattering the barrier and hitting the ground where she had been only a moment before. Spotting her staff laying a foot or so away, the skyling girl scrambled to her feet and reached out to try and grab the weapon, but before she was able to something hit her hard from behind, sending her flying across the clearing and right into the trunk of one of the trees. Her vision flashed white with pain upon impact and she ended up on her back on top of the pile of sacked dwarves beneath the tree. Kelda could hear the voices of her dwarves and hobbit calling to her, but wasn't able to respond before the world went black.

* * *

Sound was the first thing to come back to her. It was just a mind numbing buzz at first, everything mashed together into one loud, persistent noise that forced her mind awake. It was only after a moment of listening to the white noise that she was finally able to differentiate one sound from another. She recognized the voices of her dwarves first, protesting and cursing as they tried to free themselves from their bindings. She could hear the trolls after that, the crackling of their cooking fire drowning out most of what they were saying. Or maybe it was the crackling going on inside her head that was drowning them out, the sound that reminded her how hard of a hit she had taken.

That was when her feeling returned and as a sharp, thudding pain rushed through her Kelda really wished that it hadn't. She was unable to keep a groan from escaping her lips as she attempted to shift herself, causing a whole new wave of pain to wash over her. The skyling did her best to ignore it as she tried to assess her current situation. She had been sacked. She could tell as much without bothering to look. Sacked and tied up like some sort of game animal and dropped on top of her other bound friends, who were still growling and cursing and shouting, as angry dwarves were known to do. Kelda arched her back as she tried to shift her wings out from under her.

"You're all idiots," she breathed, though it was more to herself than anything, as she had no reason to believe any of them would hear her over their own hissing and spitting. Of course, they did seem to love proving her wrong.

"Kelda?" She heard Thorin say, his most obviously concerned voice very nearly right in her ear. She couldn't quite stop the relieved breath that escaped her, despite her ridiculous predicament. So he had been the one she'd been dropped on top of? She wasn't really sure how that made anything better, but somehow it did. Maybe it was simply because that meant he hadn't been eaten yet. Kelda shifted herself again, gasping at the shot of pain that went through her as she finally managed to shift her wings out from under her; the brainless brutes hadn't bound her wings. A mistake she'd make them regret, if she could get out of the sack and overcome the pain from what she was almost certain were several shattered ribs.

"You're all a bunch of blithering idiots," she repeated in response to the dwarf king, louder this time so he would be sure to hear it. Kelda clenched her teeth and swallowed the shout of agony that threatened to escape from her as she stretched her wings as far open as she could in the bag. "Go with the dwarves to Erebor, the wizard said. It will be fun, he said. I'll bet he didn't bank on everyone being captured by _trolls_…"

"Never mind the seasoning; we ain't got all night," Kelda could hear Bert saying to the other two trolls as she did her best to hum the enchantment that would harden her feathers to metal. "Dawn ain't far away, so let's get a move on. I don't fancy being turned to stone."

Being turned to stone? Kelda's eyes widened slightly as she looked to the sky, finding that it was growing ever brighter in the east. Trolls couldn't travel in sunlight, as they would turn to stone by the rays of light. Unfortunately an outcropping of rocks was blocking the sun from reaching the foul creatures.

Somebody would have to do something about that.

"Wait! You are making a terrible mistake," Bilbo said from where he lay nearby in a sack of his own. Kelda, still humming the enchantment, turned her head to see the hobbit somehow manage to stand up in the sack and look up at the trolls.

"You can't reason with them, they're half-wits!" Dori called from the turning spit. As Dori was turned out of view, Bofur came into view of the sacked group on the ground.

"Half-wits? What does that make us?"

"_Fucking imbeciles_," Kelda muttered when the enchantment finally took and her feathers glimmered and shone in the firelight as they took on their sharp metallic forms. Kelda did her best not to push her steely feathered head against Thorin as she pressed her weaponized wings against the inside of the sack; she would have to cut her way out.

"Uh, I meant with the, uh, with…with the seasoning," Bilbo said as he stood there, a little hobbit facing down three large trolls. Bert turned a suspicious eye to Bilbo as he stirred the soup in the cauldron in front of him.

"What about the seasoning?"

"Well have you smelt them? You're going to need something stronger than sage before you plate up this lot."

Kelda frowned at that, pausing in her sawing to turn her head and give the hobbit a befuddled look. What was he up to? He certainly didn't seem the kind of person to sell out others for the sake of his own hide. Was he, perhaps, trying to play for time? The dwarves, of course, reacted predictably. They shouted and cursed, the ones in the sacks within reach of Bilbo attempting to kick him. Thorin shouted 'Traitor!' at him, seemingly having no problem believing that Bilbo had turned on them. He never had been the most trusting dwarf.

"What do you know about cooking dwarf?" The companion of Lazy-Eye and Bert said to Bilbo, but was dismissed when Bert waved a hand at him.

"Shut up and let the, uh, flurgaburburhobbit talk."

"Uh, th-the secret to cooking dwarf is, um-"

"Yes? Come on," Bert interrupted as Bilbo attempted to come up with an answer. Kelda just continued to saw through the sack, it was tough to cut through the thick material without being able to better position her wings.

"It's, uh-"

"Tell us the secret."

"Ye-yes, I'm telling you, the secret is to…to skin them first!"

At any other time, Kelda probably would have found that comment and the dwarves' reactions to it funny. If they lived through their predicament, she would more than likely laugh about it later. She couldn't quite bring herself to see the humor in it at the moment, however, as the dwarves shouted at Bilbo in anger. She could see Thorin pulling at the lip of the sack with his teeth in a panic; good as the hobbit's intentions may have been, the skyling knew she had to get out and save them all before the trolls actually decided to take Bilbo's advice. As she could hear Bert saying something about a filleting knife, Kelda held back a gasp of pain as her wing finally punched through the side of the sack. Clenching her teeth, she stretched her wing out and up so it sliced through the entirety of the sack before releasing the hold on her feather's metallic forms. She then reached out and grabbed onto one of Thorin's broad shoulders in order to pull herself out of the bag, ending up having to rest for a moment on top of him as she did her best to push back the pain in her chest. Thorin looked up at her and opened his mouth to speak, but Kelda clapped her hand over the royal dwarf's mouth and simply rested her forehead against his briefly, breathing out a soft shushing sound. Hoping he understood that he needed to keep quiet about her movements, she released him and then rolled herself off of him and into the underbrush. She hoped he wouldn't say anything that might give her actions away; the trolls hadn't noticed what she was up to just yet, as they were still too distracted by Bilbo.

"What a load of rubbish!" One of the trolls was saying. "I've eaten plenty with their skins on. Scuff 'em I say, boots and all."

"'E's right! Nothing wrong with a bit of raw dwarf! Nice and crunchy."

Kelda had just about managed to crawl her way to where the trolls had piled everyone's weapons when Lazy Eye reached down and grabbed Bombur, picking him up and dangling the dwarf above his mouth, about to eat him. The skyling threw herself forward in an attempt to clear the distance between her and her war staff before it would be too late to save Bombur. Her fingers were just an inch away from the hard, dark wood when she heard Bilbo shout:

"Not-not that one, he-he's infected!"

"You what?"

"Yes, he's got worms in his…tubes…"

As Kelda heard the troll make a noise of disgust and drop Bombur back onto the ground, she finally managed to get her hand around her war staff and pull it to her, holding it to her chest a moment as she attempted to catch her breath. She glanced over at where Bilbo stood; she admired his bravery, and his quick wit. Nobody else had thought to play for time and wait on the rising sun. Hopefully she'd get a chance to tell him it later.

"In-in fact they all have, they're infested with parasites," Bilbo continued, catching Kelda's eye across the clearing briefly as he did. She could see an imploring 'help me' look flash across his face momentarily before he continued speaking to the trolls. "It's a terrible business; I wouldn't risk it, I really wouldn't."

As Kelda made her way slowly and quietly through the underbrush, trying her best not to draw any attention to herself, she could hear all the dwarves protesting Bilbo's assertion that they all had parasites. She heard Kili, in particular, shout 'We don't have parasites! You have parasites!' over all the other statements of denial. Kelda sighed and shook her head; as much as she loved her dwarves, sometimes they could be a little thick. Luckily, though, it seemed at least one of them had figured out the idea. As Kelda slunk behind the pile of her captured friends, she saw Thorin glance at Bilbo before kicking out at the other dwarves in front of him, causing them to stop, some of them twisting around in the sacks to look at him before they all finally began to catch on.

"…I've…got parasites as big as my arm!"

"Mine are the biggest parasites, I've got huge parasites!"

As the rest of them began to chime in on the size and amount of parasites they were 'riddled' with, the suspicious companion of Bert and Lazy Eye looked at Bilbo and frowned, his ugly face somehow managing to look uglier.

"What would you have us do, then, let them all go?"

From where Kelda was hidden in the underbrush, trying to figure out the best way to remove the stones blocking the sunlight, she thought she saw the briefest glimpse of a very familiar pointed hat flash between the rocks.

"Well…" Bilbo answered the troll, doing his best to look innocent.

"You think I don't know what you're up to? This little ferret is taking us for fools!"

"Ferret?" Bilbo said, managing to sound offended even in his current precarious situation. Kelda knew that Gandalf was there, somewhere, and up to something, but as the troll reached out to silence the little 'ferret' causing them trouble, the skyling knew she didn't have time to wait. Not knowing whether or not she'd even be able to put up a decent fight in her condition, Kelda sprang from where she had been hidden, twirling her staff and catching the trolls hand with the weapon's serrated blade. Yelping in pain, the troll drew his hand back at glowered at the little woman.

"_You_," he spat, his voice taking on an angry snarl.

"Me," Kelda replied sharply, managing to stand straight and act like agony wasn't rushing through her every nerve. "You'll not take even one of them. Over my dead body."

The mountain troll snarled, bringing his arm back to smash down on the feathered nuisance that had caused him more pain in one night than he was willing to ignore, but as he went to swing down and Kelda prepared to defend, someone shouting in a loud and authoritative voice stopped them both. Kelda wasn't entirely certain what had been said; all she could hear was her adrenaline filled blood pounding in her ears, but when she turned toward the noise she saw Gandalf standing on top of the outcropping of stones and relief immediately flooded through her.

"Who's that?"

"No idea."

"Can we eat 'im too?"

Before the trolls could gather themselves to do anything more than speak, Gandalf struck the rock with his staff, causing it to split in half with a loud _crack_. As the fractured stone fell away, the early morning sunlight poured into the clearing and as it reached the trolls they began to scream and howl in pain as their skin started to turn to stone. It was only a matter of seconds before three large gray statues stood where living trolls had just been. As the dwarves behind her began to cheer for their wizard, Kelda let the smallest of smiles flicker across her face.

"Imhêr kethâm, let's just agree never to do that again, yeah?" The war-mage breathed to Bilbo before wrapping an arm around her damaged ribs and lowering herself to sit on the ground. The hobbit simply looked at her with his wide eyes and nodded.

* * *

Khuzdul Translations:

Imhêr kethâm- Burning Bells, a swear referencing the bell towers of Dale burning in Smaug's flame


End file.
